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5T 

J.T. HERBERT  BAILY. 


The  Life  of 
Emma,  Lady  Hamilton 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton 


A Biographical  Essay 
With  a Catalogue  of 
Her  Published  Portraits 


By 

J.  T.  Herbert  Baily 

(. Editor  of  The  Connoisseur) 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


4<?3 

H3 


JHE  J.  PAUL  GETTY  MUSEUM  L1BRAHT 


4 


■7-i?  ru 


^7&*)  'Aun^ciA  ^/tupAn^j  /Ae 


T/rfi/nf#  OrzgraAseSi  /& 

’.  c^-l/VaAc<J. 


A BACHANTE 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Many  books  have  been  written  about  the  nursery-maid  who 
became  the  wife  of  an  Ambassador,  and  the  confidante 
of  a Queen,  the  woman  whom  Romney  painted  and  Nelson 
loved.  But  not  yet  has  justice  been  done  either  to  the  character 
or  to  the  romantic  career  of  Emma,  Lady  Hamilton.  Women 
do  not  get  justice  easily — perhaps  less  so  in  this  country  than 
in  others,  where  men  are  not  supposed  to  have  all  the  perquisites 
of  passion,  and  women  the  penalties  only.  Perhaps  we  are 
beginning  to  acquire  a healthier  sense  of  fair  play  in  the  relations 
between  men  and  women,  so  there  is  less  of  that  hypocrisy 
among  us  that  has  so  long  posed  as  virtue.  Women  have  at 
least  proclaimed  the  doctrine  of  equal  rights  ; if  they  have  not 
obtained  them.  “The  law  for  the  man,”  they  say,  “shall  be  the 
law  for  the  woman.  Shall  he  sin  and  be  excused,  while  we  who 
sin  are  stoned  ? Shall  he  be  coarse,  violent,  selfish,  luxurious, 
indulgent,  while  we  must  be  self-sacrificing,  meek  and  mild  in 
all  things  ? We  will  exact  man’s  virtue  for  woman’s  virtue,  and 
where  men  have  liberty,  so  shall  women ! ” Such  a doctrine, 
preached  boldly  now,  was  unknown  in  the  days  of  Lady  Hamilton. 
Human  nature  itself  was  not  allowed  to  women.  Young  ladies 
who  had  been  to  a “ finishing  school  ” were  commonly  supposed 
to  have  eliminated  such  an  undesirable  attribute  of  womanhood. 
Men  might  be  as  “human”  and  as  “natural”  as  they  liked — 
and  they  liked  both  qualities  pretty  considerably — but  woman, 
divine  woman,  must  be  put  on  a pedestal  to  be  worshipped  as 
a creature  of  flawless  make.  But  woe  betide  her  if  she  fall ! 


5 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Yet,  after  all,  even  in  those  days,  virtue  was  not  easier  for 
women  than  for  men,  although  men  believed  it  so,  or  made  believe. 
Women  had  their  wild  emotions  and  their  longings,  but  they  had 
to  hide  them  under  the  crochet  cover,  and  show  a smiling  face 
when  their  “ honour’d  sir  ” came  home  from  hunting,  or  drinking, 
or  dicing,  or  other  manly  pleasures.  Willy-nilly,  the  “respectable  ” 
woman  had  to  pose  in  a strained  and  unnatural  position  on  the 
pedestal  of  man’s  conceit  and  selfishness.  And  woe  betide  her 
if  she  fall ! Then  there  would  be  fine  sport  for  virtuous  men 
and  women,  for  Lady  Sneerwell,  and  Mrs.  Candour,  and  Sir 
Benjamin  Backbite,  for  the  wits  of  the  coffee  houses,  the  sots  of 
the  tavern,  the  Grub-street  hacks,  and  for  all  those  “malicious, 
prating,  prudent  gossips,  both  male  and  female,  who  murder 
character  to  kill  time,”  to  flatter  their  vanity,  or  to  earn  a guinea. 
The  men  especially  would  go  a-hunting  with  a gay  Tally-ho  ! and 
chase  a woman’s  reputation  through  the  foulest  mud,  in  a brave 
and  gallant  way,  tearing  the  clothes  off  her  back  when  they 
brought  her  to  the  ditch,  and,  generally,  the  man  who  had  first 
ruined  her  honour,  was  the  one  to  put  the  hounds  on  the  scent 
and  ride  hardest  after  the  poor  quarry.  He,  of  course,  was  a 
blameless  gentleman,  with  not  a stain  upon  his  character.  It  was 
only  the  woman  who  had  sinned,  and  she  must  pay  the  price. 

So  it  was  with  Lady  Hamilton.  There  is  no  need  to  white- 
wash her  character.  She  was  a woman  of  warm  heart  and 
passions,  a woman  of  perfect  beauty,  and  therefore  fine  game  for 
the  hunter ; she  was  frail,  and  she  fell.  But  let  us  give  her  the 
fair  play  which  she  did  not  get  in  her  lifetime,  nor  afterwards. 
Like  many  another  innocent  country  girl  who  came  to  London 
In  a humble  situation,  her  fresh  beauty  and  her  ingenuousness 
made  her  an  easy  prey  for  a scoundrel  with  an  easy  conscience 
and  a fondness  for  a pretty  face.  But  who  will  hurl  a stone  at 
his  victim  and  let  the  man  go  scot  free  ? Rather  one’s  admiration 


6 


Introduction. 


must  go  out  to  the  girl  who,  in  spite  of  an  early  experience  in 
the  wickedness  of  the  world  and  the  selfishness  of  men,  kept 
so  much  of  her  innocence,  so  much  natural  affection,  such  an 
excellent  good  heart,  such  real  purity  of  mind,  as  “ Amy  Lyon,” 
afterwards  Emma,  Lady  Hamilton,  exhibited  for  the  best  part 
of  her  life. 

For  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  the  woman  whom  Horatio 
Nelson  loved  and  almost  worshipped,  whose  name  was  in  the 
prayers  he  uttered  with  his  dying  breath,  and  whom  he  left  “ as  a 
legacy  to  his  king  and  country,”  was  an  abandoned  and  immoral 
woman,  as  commonly  described.  Nelson  had  no  grossness  in  his 
nature.  He  had  a singularly  high  and  noble  mind,  in  spite  of 
the  one  moral  weakness  into  which  he  unhappily  fell.  His  love  for 
Lady  Hamilton  was  not  wholly  ignoble.  In  her  presence  he  felt 
inspired,  not  to  indolence  and  ease,  but  to  greater  deeds  of  glory. 
Her  beauty  was  a talisman  to  him  in  the  hour  of  battle.  His 
patriotism  was  never  so  ardent  as  when  he  laid  his  honours  at  her 
feet.  To  him  she  seemed  a good  and  gracious  woman — “ one  of  the 
very  best  women  in  the  world  ’’—and  never  did  he  feel  that  he  was 
stooping  to  a woman  of  soiled  honour,  but  rather  protested  his  own 
unworthiness  to  possess  her  love.  Doubtless  he  exaggerated  the 
qualities  of  her  character,  but  it  is  incredible  that  a man  like  Nelson, 
whose  refined  and  pious  instincts  were  almost  in  advance  of  his  own 
time,  should  have  given  this  homage  to  a thoroughly  evil  woman. 
Nor  in  any  of  her  letters,  many  of  which  have  been  preserved,  is 
there  a word  of  coarseness,  or  a trace  of  low  thought,  such  as  must 
have  inevitably  crept  out  in  her  intimate  correspondence  to  a 
man  like  Charles  Greville,  for  instance,  with  whom  she  had  lived  as 
a wife  for  several  years.  In  her  early  days,  indeed,  and  when  she 
and  Greville  had  their  menage  a deux  at  Paddington  Green,  it  was  the 
man,  and  not  the  woman,  who  lost  his  honour.  Although  the  union 
had  not  been  sanctioned  either  legally  or  religiously,  there  are  few 


7 


Emma  Lady  Hamilton. 


wives  who  have  loved  so  loyally,  or  so  ardently  as  Emma  Lyon  kept 
faith  with  her  “ protector.”  He  gave  her  a home,  and  what  he  no 
doubt  considered  the  priceless  advantage  of  his  cultured  conversa- 
tion, but  she  had  more  to  give  in  return,  a fresh  and  exquisite 
beauty,  “ more  perfect  than  anything  of  antique  art,”  as  the 
connoisseur  himself  admitted  when  he  wished  to  barter  her,  a 
candid  simplicity  and  gaiety  of  spirits,  refreshing  even  to  a cold 
and  blase  gentleman  like  the  “ respectable  Mr.  Greville,”  a warmth 
of  affection  which  she  lavished  upon  him  in  return  for  his  un- 
emotional patronage,  the  docility  of  a child,  and  a gratitude  that 
deserved  more  generosity  than  Greville  gave.  The  cruel  callous- 
ness of  the  man  who  took  her  heart  without  the  slightest  touch  of 
compunction,  and  passed  her  over  to  his  uncle  for  a mercenary 
consideration,  is  a thousand  times  more  shameful  than  any  act  in 
the  life  of  the  woman  who  became  Lady  Hamilton.  Yet,  to  his  own 
generation,  Greville  was  a most  admirable  and  highly  respectable 
gentleman,  quite  a Sir  Charles  Grandison  in  his  way,  so  refined  were 
his  manners,  and  so  elegant  his  maxims.  There  was  not  a word  of 
reproach  for  him ; but  all  the  curs  of  the  town  were  barking  and 
yelping  at  the  reputation  of  the  woman  he  had  abandoned,  when  she 
had  become  famous  and  was  therefore  worth  defaming.  Every 
scurrilous  tavern-lounging  scribbler  who  could  earn  a guinea  by 
soiling  a woman’s  honour  with  his  foul  pen  fastened  some  story  of 
shame  to  the  early  days  of  Emma  Hamilton,  when  she  was  a young 
and  humble  girl.  It  was  an  age  when  the  anonymous  biographer 
could  do  his  worst  without  fear  of  libel,  and  tell  disgusting  tales,  pro- 
vided he  cloaked  them  under  a sufficient  show  of  pious  reproach  and 
canting  morality.  Lady  Hamilton,  the  wife  of  a British  Ambassador, 
and  the  woman  for  whom  our  greatest  Admiral  lost  his  heart,  was 
an  excellent  subject  for  such  anonymous  slander,  and  she  was  not 
spared.  Neither  was  the  bite  of  Sir  Benjamin  Backbite  behind- 
hand. They  were  eager  to  have  a personal  share  in  the  chroniques 


8 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “NATURE.”  BY  ROMNEY. 
From  an  engraving  by  y.  R.  Smith. 


Introduction. 


scandaleuses  of  so  famous  a beauty,  and  boasted  in  the  clubs  of 
incidents  in  the  early  life  of  that  lady  which  had  no  foundation 
except  in  their  own  imaginings,  or  hinted  with  many  “ I could  an’  I 
would,”  that  she  had  been  a good  deal  worse  than  was  commonly 
supposed.  It  is  difficult  to  disprove  such  stories.  Mud  has  a habit 
of  sticking,  and  much  has  stuck  to  Emma  Hamilton.  Yet  for  any 
clean  and  wholesome  mind  it  is  as  well  to  brush  on  one  side  all  this 
scurrility  of  anonymous  pens  and  club  room  gossip,  and  to  judge 
Lady  Hamilton  by  the  proved  facts  of  her  career.  That  she  was 
the  mistress  of  Greville  is  not  to  be  denied,  nor  even  lightly 
excused,  that  she  lived  with  Sir  William  Hamilton  years  before  he 
married  her,  is  also  known,  and  much  more  excusable  when 
the  facts  of  her  “ exchange  ” are  clearly  revealed.  That  Horatio 
Nelson  was  her  lover  and  the  father  of  her  child  is  a matter  of 
history.  In  these  facts  there  is  much  to  be  deplored,  but  on  the 
other  hand  the  character  of  Lady  Hamilton  contained  much  that 
was  admirable,  charming,  and  heroic.  Her  loyal  love  for  the  man 
who  afterwards  deserted  her  was  only  equalled  by  the  affection  and 
tenderness  which  she  showed  for  long  years  to  the  man  who  made 
her  his  wife.  But  a stronger  instance  of  her  warm  heart  is  shown 
by  her  life-long  affection  for  her  mother.  Women  of  low  and  evil 
character  do  not  as  a rule  show  any  reverence  or  natural  affection 
for  their  parents.  But  Lady  Hamilton  was  always  tenderly 
solicitous  for  her  mother’s  welfare,  always  eager  to  have  the  old 
lady  by  her  side,  even  at  the  most  brilliant  period  of  her  career, 
when  the  humble  demeanour  and  uncultured  manners  of  the  mother 
must  have  been  an  embarrassment  to  her.  That,  at  least,  should 
count  for  righteousness.  Again,  when  placed  by  her  own  merits 
and  natural  ability  in  a position  of  commanding  influence,  she  used 
her  talents  not  for  purely  selfish  ends,  but  in  the  service  of  the 
British  nation.  Uneducated  as  she  was  in  any  literary  sense,  there 
is  no  doubt  that  she  was  a good  patriot  and  a good  diplomat.  The 


9 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


influence  she  acquired  over  the  mind  of  Queen  Caroline  of  Naples, 
as  her  closest  friend  and  adviser,  was  used  always  for  the  good  of 
her  country.  On  two  occasions  she  was  of  the  highest  service  to 
England  at  a critical  and  dangerous  time  in  our  history,  once  by 
warning  Nelson  of  a secret  combination  of  powers,  and  again 
by  enabling  him  to  water  his  ships  at  neutral  ports.  Nor,  however 
guilty  her  love  for  Nelson  was,  did  she  play  the  base  part  of 
Cleopatra  to  her  Antony.  Never  did  she  tempt  him  from  his  duty, 
or  cause  him  to  neglect  it  for  love-in-idleness.  “ If  there  were 
more  Emmas,  there  would  be  more  Nelsons,”  may  not  be  literally 
true,  but,  at  least,  England  did  not  lose  a victory  because  of  Lady 
Hamilton,  and  Nelson  himself  regarded  her  as  his  inspiration. 

But  apart  from  the  moral  side  of  her  character,  the  romantic  and 
extraordinary  career  of  the  fair  Emma  deserves  no  little  admira- 
tion ; for,  in  its  way,  the  fact  that  a girl  who  had  been  a poor 
serving-maid  in  London,  who  had  no  advantages  of  education,  and 
who  had  lost  her  respectability  on  the  threshold  of  womanhood, 
should  become  the  wife  of  a distinguished  Ambassador,  the  adviser 
and  the  most  powerful  friend  of  a King  and  Queen,  that  she  should 
rule  over  a brilliant  salon,  a queen  herself  in  society,  holding  her 
high  position  with  dignity,  graciousness,  and  consummate  tact,  is 
as  remarkable  as  the  rise  of  a Corsican  Lieutenant  to  be  Emperor 
of  the  French.  For  men  there  has  always  been  a “carriere  ouverte 
aux  talents,”  but  in  the  eighteenth  or  early  nineteenth  century, 
women,  in  England  at  any  rate,  were  the  slaves  of  circumstance 
and  caste.  Less  difficult  was  it,  as  a rule,  for  a camel  to  go 
through  the  eye  of  a needle,  or  a rich  man  -to  enter  heaven,  than 
for  a girl  of  humble  birth  to  become  “a  lady  of  quality,”  or  for  one 
who  had  fallen  to  get  a foothold  on  the  social  ladder.  It  says  much 
for  Emma’s  force  of  character,  something  also — this  we  will  allow 
him — for  the  careful  instruction  of  Charles  Greville,  that  she  should 
have  been  able  to  play  the  part  of  an  Ambassador’s  wife  with  so 


Introduction, 


much  assurance,  and  with  few,  if  any,  lapses  from  the  social 
etiquette  of  the  time.  But  above  all  it  speaks  eloquently  for  the 
natural  charm  of  her  manners.  Neapolitan  nobles  and  their  ladies 
would  not,  perhaps,  have  noticed  a slip  in  grammar,  or  an  uncon- 
ventional vivacity  of  spirits  which  would  have  been  considered 
“unladylike”  in  London,  but  they  were  quick  to  appreciate  her  good 
nature,  and  her  simple  desire  to  please  and  be  pleased.  But  she 
had  one  attribute  worth  more  in  most  men’s  eyes,  and  in  women’s 
too,  than  the  elegances  of  “ the  finishing  school,”  or  the  niceties  of 
the  social  code  : Emma  Hamilton  was  beautiful  in  her  best  years,  of 
such  fresh,  and  sweet,  and  exquisite  beauty,  both  in  form  and  figure, 
that  it  gained  her  an  affection  which  would  never  have  been  hers 
had  a plain  appearance  been  joined  to  a most  irreproachable  past. 
From  the  portraits  of  Romney,  who  never  tired  of  painting  her,  her 
face  looks  out  upon  us,  with  its  full  pouting  lips,  large  fawn-like 
eyes,  delicately  chiselled  nose,  dainty  curves  of  the  dimpled  cheeks, 
and  pretty  pointed  chin,  smiling  sometimes  a little  roguishly,  some- 
times pensive  and  serious,  and  in  one  portrait,  the  “ Lady  Hamilton 
in  early  life,”  with  a sweet  and  grave  innocence  in  her  round,  timid 
eyes.  In  nearly  all  these  portraits  the  face  conveys  the  same 
impression, — that  of  a piquant  and  charming  beauty,  thoroughly 
English  in  type,  very  fresh,  and  quite  unspoilt  by  pearl  powder  or 
paint.  In  none  of  them  is  there  any  trace  of  coarseness  or  vicious 
self-indulgence.  The  mouth  is  a little  weak,  perhaps,  and  the 
laughing  eyes  do  not  belong  to  a woman  who  takes  life  very 
seriously,  but  in  the  days  of  her  perfection  the  beauty  of  Lady 
Hamilton  was  refined  and  ethereal.  If  Nelson  had  never  loved  the 
fair  Emma,  Romney  would  have  given  her  a fame  as  lasting  as  the 
paint  on  his  pictures.  Best,  perhaps,  had  it  been  for  her  if  that 
were  her  only  fame. 


n 


I 


LADY  HAMILTON  (EMMA  HART).  BY  ROMNEY, 
From  the  picture  in  the  National  Gallery. 


Chapter  I. 


A LTHOUGH  in  the  archives  of  the  municipality  of  Calais  the 
XjL  registration  of  Lady  Hamilton’s  death  records  her  as  having 
been  born  in  Lancashire,  it  has  now  been  proved  beyond  a 
doubt  that  her  birth  took  place  in  the  village  of  Nesse,  in  the 
district  of  Great  Neston,  County  Cheshire.  The  exact  date  of  her 
birth  is  still  unknown,  but  in  the  Church  Register  of  Great  Neston 
there  is  the  following  entry  : 

Arny,  daughter  of  Henry  Lyon,  of  Nesse,  by  Mary  his  wife. 

Baptised  the  12th  of  May,  1765. 

If  is  believed  that  the  child  was  two  years  old  at  the  time  of  her 
baptism,  and  in  later  life  she  always  kept  her  birthday  on  April  26th. 
Her  father,  who  died  within  less  than  a month  after  having  had  his 
little  one  baptised,  was  the  village  blacksmith,  from  which  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  most  famous  beauty  in  the  reign  of  George  III.  was 
of  the  humblest  origin.  Her  mother,  whose  maiden  name  was 


13 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Kidd,  left  in  poverty  by  the  early  death  of  her  husband,  returned 
with  her  little  daughter  to  her  native  place  of  Hawarden,  in 
Flintshire,  afterwards  the  famous  home  of  W.  E.  Gladstone.  Here 
Dame  Kidd,  her  mother,  received  her  affectionately,  and  took 
to  her  heart  the  baby  girl,  who  was  to  be  her  pride,  and  perhaps 
her  greatest  grief.  “ Little  Emily,”  as  she  was  called  in  those  days, 
seems  to  have  had  a happy  childhood,  and,  through  all  the  excite- 
ment of  her  life,  and  when  she  had  become  a woman  of  rank  and 
fashion,  she  never  forgot  the  old  grand-dame,  about  whose  skirts 
she  had  played  in  the  little  Welsh  village,  and  who  had  often 
scraped  up  her  savings  to  give  to  the  young  beauty  for  ribbons  and 
trinkets. 

Years  afterwards,  when  she  was  in  a whirlpool  of  social  gaiety, 
the  mistress  of  a brilliant  salon,  and  the  brightest  ornament  of 
the  Neapolitan  Court,  she  found  time  to  remember  the  old  friend  of 
her  youth.  There  are  few  more  simple  and  touching  letters  by 
famous  women  than  the  one  she  wrote  to  Charles  Greville  on 
behalf  of  her  grandmother. 

“ 1 will  trouble  you,”  she  said,  “ with  my  own  affairs,  as  you  are 
so  good  as  to  interest  yourself  about  me.  You  must  know  I send 
my  grandmother,  every  Christmas,  twenty  pounds,  and  so  I ought. 
I have  two  hundred  a year  for  nonsense,  and  it  would  be  hard  if  I 
could  not  give  her  twenty  pounds,  when  she  has  so  often  given  me 
her  last  shilling.  As  Sir  William  is  ill,  I cannot  ask  him  for  the 
order,  but  if  you  will  get  the  twenty  pounds  and  send  it  to  her,  you 
will  do  me  the  greatest  favour ; for  if  the  time  passes  without  her 
hearing  from  me  she  may  imagine  that  I have  forgot  her,  and  I 
would  not  keep  her  poor  old  heart  in  suspense  for  the  world,  and  as 
she  has  heard  of  my  circumstances  (I  don’t  know  how)  ; but  she  is 
prudent,  and  therefore,  pray  lose  no  time,  and  Sir  William  will  send 
you  the  order.  You  know  her  direction— Mrs.  Kidd,  Hawarden, 
Flintshire.  Could  you  not  write  her  a line  from  me  and  send  it  to 


14 


A Biographical  Essay. 


her,  and  tell  her,  by  my  order,  and  she  may  write  to  you,  and  send 
me  her  answer  ? For  I cannot  divest  myself  of  my  original  feelings. 
It  will  contribute  to  my  happiness,  and  I am  sure  you  will  assist  to 
make  me  happy.  Tell  her  every  year  she  shall  have  twenty  pounds. 
The  fourth  of  November  last  I had  a dress  on  that  cost  twenty-five 
pounds,  as  it  was  gala  at  Court ; and,  believe  me,  I felt  unhappy 
all  the  while  I had  it  on.  Excuse  the  trouble  I give  you,  and 
believe  me,  Yours  sincerely,  Emma  Hamilton. 

This  letter,  so  womanly  and  kind,  is  the  best  tribute  to  the 
goodness  of  her  heart,  for  no  woman,  entirely  given  up  to  vanity 
and  self-indulgence  and  ambition,  would  have  troubled  about  an 
illiterate  old  woman,  who  had  befriended  her  as  a child,  or  put 
aside  an  annual  sum  of  twenty  pounds  out  of  an  allowance  for 
pin  money  that  was  certainly  not  extravagant  for  the  wife  of  an 
ambassador.  Not  many  women  would  have  felt  unhappy  at  the 
idea  of  wearing  a gown  costing  twenty-five  pounds  at  a court 
ball,  nor  given  the  shadow  of  a thought  about  “ a poor  old  heart 
in  suspense.”  But  Lady  Hamilton  kept  her  simplicity  of  heart 
longer  than  most  women  who  had  a knowledge  of  evil.  She 
“could  not  divest  herself  of  her  original  feelings,”  and,  although 
she  had  been  a frail  woman,  the  victim  of  circumstance  more, 
perhaps,  than  of  her  own  weakness,  her  essential  purity  was 
untouched.  “Oh,  my  dear  friend!”  she  once  wrote  to  Romney, 
with  a touching  candour,  “ for  a time  I own,  through  distress,  my 
virtue  was  vanquished,  but  my  sense  of  virtue  was  not  overcome.” 
Faulty  though  Lady  Hamilton’s  life  was,  anyone  who  studies  her 
character  with  sympathy  and  understanding,  must  acknowledge 
that  there  was  no  trace  of  inherent  vice  in  her  temperament,  and 
that  in  spite  of  the  villainies  that  had  been  practised  upon  her  when 
she  was  a young  and  helpless  girl,  she  remained  of  a singularly 
sweet  and  wholesome  mind  until  the  last  troubles  of  her  life 
overthrew  her  mental  balance. 


15 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


When  she  was  about  fourteen  years  of  age  she  became  a nursery 
maid  at  the  house  of  Dr.  Thomas,  at  Hawarden,  and  it  was 
probably  upon  the  recommendation  of  her  master  that,  a year  later, 
she  obtained  an  engagement  in  London  in  the  same  position  with 
Dr.  Budd,  a physician  of  St.  Bartholomew’s  Hospital,  whose  house 
was  in  Chatham  Place,  Blackfriars.  It  is  a curious  coincidence 
that  one  of  her  fellow  servants  was  also  renowned  in  after  years 
as  a great  beauty,  and,  under  the  name  of  Mrs.  Powell,  fascinated 
the  patrons  of  the  play-house  with  her  talent  and  charm  as  an 
actress  at  Drury  Lane.  One  wonders  whether  good  Dr.  Budd  was 
aware  of  what  choice  flowers  were  blooming  in  his  dingy  dwelling- 
place,  or  whether  he  regarded  them  merely  as  human  scrubbing  and 
dusting  machines.  One  would  like  to  know  a little  more  of  the  life 
led  by  those  tw'o  young  servant  maids,  who  were  both  destined  to 
be  famous.  Perhaps  it  was  at  this  time  that  “Little  Emily” 
developed  her  taste  in  theatrical  attitudes,  for  which  she  was  after- 
wards renowned.  It  is  likely  enough  that,  with  her  fellow  servant, 
who,  no  doubt,  had  an  early  passion  for  the  drama,  she  visited  some  of 
the  London  playhouses  during  her  “evenings  out,”  and  was  bewitched 
by  the  glamour  of  the  footlights  and  dazzled  by  the  stars  of  the 
stage.  But  practically  the  only  source  to  which  one  may  go  for 
information  about  this  period  of  the  fair  Emma’s  life,  is  one  upon 
which  no  reliance  whatever  may  be  placed.  The  anonymous 
“ Memoirs  of  Lady  Hamilton,”  published  shortly  after  her  death, 
contain  so  much  slanderous  and  scandalous  matter  which,  for  the 
most  part,  has  been  utterly  disproved,  while  the  text  is  now 
discredited,  that  one  cannot  accept  with  any  confidence  the  stories 
they  tell  of  Lady  Hamilton’s  girlhood,  which  otherwise  do  not 
seem  improbable.  According  to  these  famous  and  infamous 
“ Memoirs,”  Amy,  or  Emily,  as  she  now  called  herself,  became 
engaged  as  an  assistant  in  a London  shop,  patronised  by  many 
ladies  of  fashion,  who  were  attracted  by  the  comeliness  of  the 


16 


A Biographical  Essay. 


girl,  and  that  years  afterwards,  when  she  was  the  wife  of  the 
ambassador,  she  drove  in  a carriage  to  the  place  and  expressed 
her  gratitude  to  her  old  master  and  mistress  for  their  kindness 
to  her  in  the  past.  According  to  this  work  also,  she  was  after- 
wards taken  into  the  household  of  a “ lady  of  quality,”  who  led  a 
gay  and  fashionable  life,  and  who  found  that  her  new  “ companion,” 
or  maid,  added  considerably  to  the  attraction  of  her  salon.  A 
very  lively  picture  is  drawn  of  the  frivolous  existence  of  the 
young  beauty  who  provides  a text  for  much  heavy  moralising  on 
the  evils  of  idleness,  and  the  vicious  influence  of  light  and  romantic 
novels  upon  the  mind  and  character  of  an  impressionable  girl. 
After  this  experience,  it  is  alleged  that  Emily  fell  into  the  hands 
of  a notorious  charlatan,  named  Dr.  Graham,  who  opened  a 
“Temple  of  Health,”  wherein  he  gave  lectures  to  fashionable, 
as  well  as  to  disreputable  people  on  the  laws  of  beauty  and 
physical  nature,  using  Emily  Lyon  as  a model  of  “ the  female 
form  divine.”  There  is  no  need  here  to  give  all  the  indelicate 
and  repulsive  details  of  a story  which  rests  upon  no  better 
authority  than  an  anonymous  and  scurrilous  writer,  and  has  not 
been  confirmed  by  any  contemporary  who  professed  to  have  seen 
her  personally  in  the  situation  described.  Undoubtedly  there 
was  such  a person  as  Dr.  Graham,  who  gave  lectures  on  hygiene, 
but  there  is  little  proof  that  there  was  anything  of  an  indecent  or 
objectionable  character  in  his  methods  or  objects ; and  there  is 
still  less  proof  that  Lady  Hamilton  was  connected  with  him  in 
any  way  whatever.  There  are  no  allusions  to  such  an  episode 
in  her  career  in  any  of  the  letters  which  she  wrote  to  Greville 
a few  years  after  the  time  during  which  she  is  said  to  have  posed 
as  “ Hygeia,”  and  a careful  comparison  of  the  established  dates 
of  her  early  career  show  how  improbable  it  is  that  she  should  have 
had  any  regular  position  in  the  “ Temple  of  Health.”  We  may 
therefore  pass  on  one  side  a story  which  no  doubt  originated  in 


17 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


the  brain  of  a professional  slanderer,  who  pandered  to  the  eager- 
ness of  a certain  public  for  “ Chroniques  scandaleuses.”  There  is  no 
more  direct  evidence  for  another  and  more  painful  story  connected 
with  these  early  years  of  Emily  Lyon.  The  anonymous  writer 
of  the  “ Memoirs,”  followed  by  Dr.  Pettigrew,  who  was  a more 
respectable  and  trustworthy  biographer,  relates  that  Emily  fell 
in  with  a certain  young  naval  officer  named  Captain  John  Willett- 
Payne,  under  romantic  circumstances,  ending  in  a liason  which 
resulted  in  the  birth  of  a child.  It  is  said  that  one  officer  visited 
her  on  behalf  of  a young  married  man  who  had  been  an  old  friend 
of  hers  in  Flintshire,  and  who  had  been  carried  off  by  the  press- 
gang  from  his  wife  and  little  children.  Moved  by  compassion 
for  the  grief  of  the  poor  wife,  Emily  is  said  to  have  gone  to 
Captain  Payne,  with  whom  she  was  slightly  acquainted,  and,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  begged  him  to  use  his  influence  to  restore  the 
“ pressed  man  ” to  his  family,  who  relied  on  him  for  their  daily 
bread.  The  story  goes  that  the  young  officer  was  astonished  and 
fascinated  by  the  beauty  and  the  extraordinary  charm  of  his 
suppliant,  and  that  he  granted  her  request  in  return  for  the  favours 
of  her  love.  Thus  it  came  about  that  Emily  lost  her  innocence, 
and  while  still  almost  a child  herself,  became  a mother.  This 
fact  is  undoubtedly  true.  In  the  early  days  of  the  year  1780, 
Emily  returned  to  her  mother  at  Hawarden,  in  shame  and  distress, 
and  brought  into  the  world  a little  girl  baby,  to  whom  she  gave 
her  own  name.  But  there  is  no  certainty  as  to  the  date  of  this 
occurrence,  and  no  definite  proof,  beyond  the  statement  of  Dr. 
Pettigrew,  that  connects  the  child  with  the  officer  who  afterwards 
became  an  Admiral  in  the  British  Navy.  Mr.  Jeaffreson,  the 
most  painstaking  and  accurate  biographer  of  Lady  Hamilton,  casts 
doubt  upon  the  whole  narrative.  It  seems  much  more  probable 
that  the  father  of  the  new  “little  Emily”  was  a fox-hunting 
Squire  named  Sir  Harry  Featberstonehaugh,  of  Up  Park,  Sussex, 


18 


A Biographical  Essay. 


with  whom  Emma  Lyon,  or  “ Emma  Hart,”  as  she  now  called 
herself,  lived  for  nearly  a year.  This  sporting  baronet  was  a 
young  spark  whose  ideas  of  morality  were  certainly  not  in  advance 
of  his  time,  and  who  sowed  a plentiful  crop  of  “ wild  oats,” 
before  settling  down  as  a county  magnate.  He  became  fascinated 
with  the  charms  of  the  London  servant-maid  who  was  now  on 
the  threshold  of  womanhood,  and  had  blossomed  into  the  per- 
fection of  her  astonishing  beauty.  Everything  points  to  the  fact 
that  it  was  he  who  seduced  her  from  her  childish  innocence,  and 
he  did  his  best  to  ruin  her  irretrievably.  He  carried  her  off  to 
his  country  house,  and  introduced  her  openly  as  his  mistress  to 
his  set  of  boon  companions.  For  many  months  at  Up  Park 
Emma  went  through  the  wildest  and  gayest  period  of  her 
chequered  career.  It  is  no  wonder  if  she  lost  her  head  for  a 
time.  Though  not  the  wife  of  the  handsome  young  Squire,  she 
was  nominally  the  mistress  of  his  household,  and  was  treated 
with  mock  respect,  and  with  what  was  no  doubt  the  sincere 
admiration  of  all  the  young  bloods  who  sponged  on  the  wealth 
of  a “jolly  good  fellow,”  and  toasted  his  fair  charmer  at  many 
a hunting  breakfast.  To  a girl  who  had  been  leading  a narrow 
life  in  domestic  service,  all  this  jovial  Bohemianism  was  intoxi- 
cating. Emma  seems  to  have  thrown  herself  into  the  gaieties 
of  her  surroundings  with  youthful  and  buoyant  spirit.  She  learnt 
to  ride  like  a young  Diana,  and  rode  to  hounds  after  her  sporting 
squire  with  a boldness  and  grace  that  aroused  the  enthusiasm 
of  his  friends.  Probably  there  seemed  no  reason  to  her  why 
such  a life  should  ever  come  to  an  end.  Youth  and  beauty  do 
not  trouble  about  the  clouds  of  to-morrow  if  there  is  sunshine 
to-day.  But  the  clouds  came,  and  the  dark  shadows,  as  they 
were  bound  to  come.  Sir  Harry  Featherstonehaugh  tired  of 
his  toy ; or  perhaps  he  resented  her  high  spirits  and  warm- 
heartedness, which  endangered  his  sole  possession  of  her  beauty  ; 


19 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


for,  whatever  the  cause,  at  the  end  of  1781,  he  abandoned  her, 
and  Emily  had  to  go  back  once  more  in  poverty,  and  deeper 
still  in  shame,  to  the  mother  and  the  old  grand-dame,  who  wrere 
always  ready  to  forgive  her,  and  welcome  her  home.  Her  “little 
Emily”  was  being  nursed  by  Dame  Kidd,  who  crooned  over 
the  tiny  morsel  of  humanity  not  with  less  joy  because  it  was  a 
“ love-child.”  Perhaps  the  young  mother  also  found  a brief  joy 
in  nursing  her  own  babe,  and  forgot  the  darkness  of  her  future 
when  holding  it  to  her  breast.  She  was  not  one  to  “divest 
herself  of  her  original  feelings.”  In  her  simplicity,  also,  she 
still  hugged  the  hope  that  Sir  Harry  Featherstonehaugh  would 
ask  her  to  come  back  again.  She  could  not  believe  that  he  had 
cast  her  off  for  ever.  So  in  her  servant-maid  handwriting,  with 
round  large  letters,  with  much  difficulty  in  spelling  out  the  words, 
she  wrote  letter  after  letter  to  the  squire,  begging  him  to 
remember  his  words  of  love,  entreating  him  not  to  desert  her, 
and  cast  her  adrift  on  the  world.  But  never  once  did  the  village 
postman  stop  at  her  cottage  door,  and  no  answer  came  from  the 
man  who  had  ruined  her.  Then  the  girl-mother  got  into  a panic. 
The  neighbours  “ looked  coolly  upon  her.”  Her  mother  and 
grandmother  could  not  afford  to  keep  her.  What  was  to  happen 
to  her  ? the  future  looked  dark  and  dreary  ; to  whom  could  she 
turn  for  help  ? There  was  one  man  among  the  friends  of  Sir 
Harry  who  had  been  kind  to  her  in  a different  way  to  the  boisterous 
homage  of  the  country  squires.  He  had  treated  her  with  a grave 
and  old-fashioned  courtesy.  He  had  seemed  to  her  a fine  and 
noble  gentleman,  amiable  with  women,  and  not  too  severe  in  his 
manner,  but  with  none  of  the  noisy  licentiousness  of  Sir  Harry’s 
sporting  comrades.  Mr.  Charles  Greville  had  not  forgotten 
her.  He  had  written  to  her  wishing  her  happiness.  Perhaps 
his  interest  in  her  was  of  a warmer  kind  than  she  had  suspected 
when  he  had  been  “good  to  her”  at  Sir  Harry’s  house.  So 


20 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “ BACCHANTE  ” 

BY  SIR  JOS.  REYNOLDS. 

From  the  original  painting  in  the  Cranbury  Park  Collection. 

By  kind  permission  of  the  owner,  Tankervillc  Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


she  sat  down  and  wrote  a passionate  and  pathetic  letter,  thanking 
him  for  his  kind  note.  “ It  put  me  in  some  spirits,”  she  said, 
“ for,  believe  me,  I am  almost  distracted.”  She  told  him  how 
she  had  written  seven  times  to  Sir  Harry,  but  had  got  no  answer. 
Then  she  poured  out  her  distress  and  fears  in  broken,  ill-spelt 
sentences.  “ What  shall  I dow  ? Good  God  ! what  shall  I dow  ? ” 
she  cried:  “I  can’t  come  to  town  caus  I am  out  of  money.  I 
have  not  a farthing  to  bless  myself  with,  and  I think  my  frends 
looks  cooly  on  me.  I think  so.  O,  Grevell,  what  shall  I dow  ? 
what  shall  I dow  ? O,  how  your  letter  affected  me  when  you 
wished  me  happiness.  O,  Grevell,  that  I was  in  your  position 
or  still  with  Sir  H.  What  a happy  girl  I would  have  been  ! — 
girl  indeed ! what  else  am  I but  a girl  in  distres — in  reall  distres  ? 
For  God’s  sake  G.,  writ  the  minet  you  get  this,  and  tell  me  what 
to  dow  ...  I am  almos  mad.  O,  for  God’s  sake  tell  me  what 
is  to  become  on  me.  O,  dear  Grevell,  writ  to  me.  Grevell 
adieu,  and  believe  me  yours  for  ever — Emily  Hart. 

“ Don’t  tell  my  mother  what  distres  I am  in,  and  dow  aford 
me  some  comfort.” 

This  letter  of  entreaty,  which  was  to  lead  to  a new  chapter  in 
her  life,  is  just  such  a one  as  would  be  written  by  any  poor  girl 
whose  life  had  been  ruined  by  a fall  from  innocence,  and  who  knew 
not  where  to  turn  or  what  to  do  to  save  herself  from  absolute 
misery.  It  is  the  cry  of  a wounded  heart,  turned  into  panic- 
stricken  pleading  of  a girl  who  for  the  first  time  in  life  knows  the 
horror  of  despair.  Yet  even  in  this  anguish  there  is  a simple  little 
touch  of  unselfishness,  and  thoughtfulness  for  the  feelings  of  one 
dear  to  her.  “ Don’t  tell  my  mother  what  distress  I am  in  ” ; these 
words  show  the  same  tenderness  which  was  revealed  many  years 
afterwards  by  the  fashionable  Lady  Hamilton  who  could  not  bear 
to  keep  a “poor  old  heart  in  suspense” — the  heart  of  her  old 
grandmother  who  had  befriended  her  in  her  time  of  trouble. 


21 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Chapter  II. 

GREVELL,  what  shall  I dow?”  The  cry  must  have  stirred 
the  emotions  even  of  that  elegant  man  of  fashion,  and 
connoisseur  of  all  bric-a-brac  such  as  Greek  antiques  and 
women’s  hearts — the  Honourable  Charles  Francis  Greville,  second 
son  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Lord 
Archibald  Hamilton. 

As  he  read  this  scrawling  letter,  unpunctuated  and  ludicrously 
spelt,  and  blotted  with  tears,  there  rose  to  his  mind  the  picture  of  a 
girl’s  face,  simple,  fresh  and  piquant,  exquisitely  modelled  and 
deliciously  coloured ; and  of  a girl’s  form,  lissome  and  a little 
undeveloped,  but  with  the  promise  of  a ripe  and  glorious  perfection 
of  womanly  beauty.  “O,  for  God’s  sake,  tell  me  what  is  to  become 
on  me.”  It  was  not  the  entreaty  of  an  ordinary  girl  whose  pretti- 
ness lasts  no  longer  than  that  of  the  hedgerow  flower  when  it  is 
plucked  and  thrown  away.  The  woman  who  cried  to  him  for  help 
was  a creature  cast  from  a most  rare  mould.  Greville,  perhaps, 
looked  round  at  his  Greek  busts  and  Etruscan  vases,  and  the 
pictures  of  nymphs  and  goddesses  on  his  walls,  and  perhaps  there 
came  to  him  then  that  thought  which  was  afterwards  uttered  by 
his  Uncle,  Sir  William  Hamilton,  when  the  two  connoisseurs  met 
bartering,  in  a highly  refined  and  genteel  way,  for  a woman’s 
body  and  soul.  “ By  heaven,  she  is  more  perfect  than  anything 
in  antique  art.” 

In  an  elegant  hand  that  contrasted  with  the  servant-maid’s 
scrawl  before  him,  Sir  Charles  Greville  wrote  another  “ kind 
letter”  to  the  despairing  Emily,  telling  her  to  come  to  him  for 


22 


A Biographical  Essay. 


protection,  and  sending  her  enough  money  to  bring  her  comfortably 
to  London.  He  warned  her  against  her  natural  generosity.  She 
was  not  to  waste  the  money  in  giving  presents  to  her  family  and 
friends.  There  would  be  time  enough  to  make  a nice  present  to 
the  old  grandmother  when  she  had  settled  down  in  his  house.  And 
she  was  to  be  a good  girl  and  try  to  please  him  by  obedience  and 
docility,  putting  away  her  wildness,  and  comforting  him  by  improv- 
ing herself  in  education  and  elegant  accomplishments.  Lord 
Chesterfield  himself  could  not  be  more  cultured  and  refined  in  his 
sentiments  to  the  weaker  sex  than  the  fashionable  Charles  Greville, 
who  conducted  even  his  immoralities  in  the  most  gentlemanly  way ! 
To  the  poor  girl  in  the  Flintshire  village  such  a letter  seemed  as 
noble  as  it  was  kind.  As  if  the  sunshine  had  at  once  dispelled  all 
the  dark  clouds  from  her  life,  her  spirits  rose  to  an  ecstasy  of  joy. 
She  had  found  a protector  who  would  shelter  her  from  shame,  and 
who  would  give  her  a happy  home  in  return  for  her  love,  which 
already  she  was  eager  to  lavish  upon  him  in  gratitude  for  his 
generosity.  So  Emily  Hart  left  the  village  of  Hawarden,  to  which 
she  was  never  again  to  return,  and  began  the  new  chapter  of  her 
life  in  London.  It  was  in  a small  but  “ gentooi  ” town— the  old- 
fashioned  adjective  comes  naturally  to  the  pen  when  writing  of  the 
Georgian  period — situated  in  the  Edgeware  Road,  Paddington,  that 
Charles  Greville  received  the  beauty  in  distress.  It  was  a quiet, 
and,  indeed,  a rural  retreat,  for  in  those  days  boys  played  cricket 
on  Paddington  Green,  and  children  plucked  wild  flowers  in  the 
lanes  of  Edgeware.  It  was  sufficiently  far  from  Mayfair  for  Greville 
to  keep  the  privacy  of  his  “ menage  a deux,”  and  yet  sufficiently 
close  to  town  to  enjoy  the  society  of  those  friends  whose  discretion 
he  could  trust. 

Greville  was  by  no  means  the  wealthy  man  that  he  has  sometimes 
been  represented  by  the  biographer  of  Lady  Hamilton.  His  income 
amounted  to  about  £500  a year  before  he  obtained  the  appointment 


23 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


of  Vice-Chamberlain  at  a later  period.  This,  though  modest 
according  to  present  reckoning,  when  the  ideas  of  wealth  have 
been  enlarged  by  the  progress  of  trade,  was  considered  a comfort- 
able competency  for  a single  gentleman  of  elegant  tastes,  though 
not  admitting  much  in  the  way  of  extravagance.  But  Greville,  in 
spite  of  being  the  son  of  a peer,  and  having  much  “ blue-blood”  in 
his  veins,  was  not  above  supplementing  his  income  by  a little 
trading  and  business  enterprise  in  a private  way.  It  was,  doubtless, 
by  his  suggestion  that  he  became  a kind  of  London  agent  to  his 
uncle,  Sir  William  Hamilton,  for  the  sale  of  works  of  art  to 
the  bric-a-brac  dealers.  As  Ambassador  and  Envoy  Extraordinary 
to  the  Court  of  Naples,  Sir  William  Hamilton  was  not  only  able  to 
gratify  his  tastes  as  a connoisseur  and  collector  of  Italian 
antiquities,  but  also  to  establish  a very  successful  business, 
avoiding,  of  course,  any  awkward  publicity,  in  articles  of  “ vertu  ” 
and  the  like.  Greville  and  Sir  William  were  men  of  very  similar 
tastes,  the  nephew  being  as  much  a connoisseur  and  a savant  as  the 
uncle  himself.  They  were,  therefore,  able  to  form  a very  useful 
and  profitable  partnership  to  the  advantage  of  both.  For  whereas 
the  Ambassador  had  admirable  opportunities  for  picking  up  cheap 
bargains  from  needy  noblemen  and  Italian  dealers,  for  the 
ostensible  reason  of  adding  to  his  own  private  collection  of  art 
treasures,  Charles  Greville,  who  was  a shrewd  man  of  business, 
could  find  a market  for  these  wares  in  England,  where  at  that  time 
every  man  of  wealth  considered  it  “the  right  thing”  to  amass 
“ objets  d’art.”  In  this  way  Greville  was  able  to  add  to  his  £500  a 
year,  besides  gaining  a reputation  in  town  as  a man  of  elegance  and 
taste  , for  naturally  his  own  rooms  contained  many  treasures  which 
he  was  either  unable  to  dispose  of  quickly,  or  held  back  for  his  own 
enjoyment. 

When  the  errant  and  beautiful  Emma  came  to  live  with  him  she 
found  herself  in  an  environment  of  simple  elegance  and  refinement, 


24 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “ BACCHANTE.”  BY  MADAME  VIGEE  LE  BRUN. 
From  the  original  painting  in  the  Cranhury  Park  Collection. 

By  kind  permission  of  the  owner , TankerviUe  Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


and  being  a young  woman  of  much  sensibility,  she  quickly  adapted 
herself  to  her  surroundings,  and  educated  her  naturally  artistic 
temperament.  Greville  was  a man  without  any  violence  of  passion, 
and,  in  spite  of  any  deep  moral  sentiment  or  religious  faith,  had 
that  reverence  of  “ good  taste  ” which  was  so  characteristic  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  Emotionalism,  enthusiasm,  passion  of  any 
kind  was  considered  “foreign,”  and  therefore  detestable,  but  an 
easy  immorality  was  tolerated,  provided  it  were  conducted  in  a 
restrained  and  outwardly  respectable  manner.  This  was  typical  of 
Greville’s  own  character,  and,  although  living  with  a young  woman 
without  legal  sanction,  he  did  not  consider  it  inconsistent  to 
adopt  an  almost  fatherly,  and  highly  dignified,  manner  towards  his 
protegee.  Like  Mr.  Joseph  Surface,  he  was  a man  of  many 
sentiments,  and  his  lectures  to  Emma  on  the  subject  of  propriety 
and  general  deportment  would  have  gratified  the  author  of  the 
immortal  “ Grandison.”  Nor  did  he  stop  with  the  cultured 
eloquence  which  made  Emma  fee!  herself  unworthy  of  so  fine  a 
gentleman  and  so  noble  a soul.  He  was  really  anxious  that  she 
should  be  a credit  to  his  high  ideals  of  good  taste,  and  possess  all 
the  elegance  which  would  fit  her  for  the  inestimable  privilege  of 
being  his  daily  companion.  He  therefore  procured  for  her  a good 
singing  master,  at  considerable  expense,  it  seems,  and  a tolerable 
master  of  the  pianoforte,  so  that  her  good  voice  and  musical  ear 
might  be  thoroughly  well  trained,  while  it  was  his  good  pleasure  to 
correct  her  very  faulty  spelling  and  ill-educated  handwriting- 
offending  to  a man  of  such  refinement — and  to  put  such  books  in 
her  hand  as  might  develop  her  intellect  as  far  as  it  was  considered 
advisable  for  young  ladies  of  that  period.  He  also  allowed  her 
sufficient  money  to  dress  in  a becoming  and  tasteful  manner,  and 
that  she  might  have  all  the  advantages  of  a gentlewoman,  obtained 
two  maid-servants  to  wait  upon  her.  Indeed,  so  careful  was  Mr. 
Greville  to  do  everything  in  a proper  and  decorous  manner,  that  he 


25 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


invited  Emma’s  mother  from  Flintshire,  and  that  amiable  woman 
became  a member  of  his  little  household.  Probably  it  was  Greville 
who  advised  Mrs.  Lyon  to  adopt  a different  name  so  that  the 
humble  origin  of  “ Little  Emily  ” might  be  lost  sight  of  as  far  as 
possible.  Henceforth,  therefore,  Emma’s  mother  was  known  by 
the  high-sounding  name  of  Mrs.  Cadogan,  and  if  the  lady’s  speech 
and  manners  were  hardly  in  keeping  with  so  grand  an  appellation, 
it  was  not  for  the  lack  of  good  nature  and  the  desire  to  please. 
Indeed,  there  must  have  been  some  sterling  qualities  in  the  former 
blacksmith’s  wife,  for  not  only  Greville  always  spoke  of  her  with 
high  respect,  but  in  later  years  she  gained  the  affection  of  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  and  the  good  opinion  of  Lord  Nelson,  both  of 
whom  sent  her  their  compliments  and  tokens  of  esteem  from  time 
to  time.  Greville  found  her  a useful  member  of  his  household,  for 
she  was  an  excellent  cook,  and  the  little  dinners  he  gave  to  select 
friends  entirely  satisfied  his  ideals  of  the  culinary  art,  of  which  he 
was  as  much  a connoisseur  as  of  Greek  antiques. 

Probably  Emma’s  three  years  at  Paddington  Green  were  the 
happiest  in  her  life.  She  had  quite  repented  of  her  “ giddiness,” 
and  there  was  hardly  anything  in  her  relationship  with  Greville  at 
this  time  which  differed  from  the  ordinary  position  of  a wife.  She 
had  a great  reverence  for  her  “ protector  ” — to  her  he  seemed  the 
noblest  and  best  of  men— and  she  listened  to  his  suave  lectures 
with  an  almost  childlike  simplicity  and  docility.  She  worked  hard 
at  improving  her  education,  so  that  even  her  spelling  became,  in 
time,  no  worse  than  that  of  the  average  gentlewoman  of  the  day, 
and  Greville  was  much  pleased  with  the  progress  she  made  in 
singing  and  playing  and  other  elegant  accomplishments.  Now  and 
again,  no  doubt,  her  higher  spirits  chafed  a little  at  the  constraints 
placed  upon  her  by  the  fine  gentleman  who  detested  any  display  of 
emotion,  or  anything  bordering  on  “unladylike”  behaviour,  and  a 
story  is  told  of  her,  at  this  time,  which  seems  to  show  that  she  was 


26 


A Biographical  Essay. 


not  always  able  to  control  her  natural  excitability.  One  evening,  so 
the  story  goes,  Greville  took  her  for  a treat  to  Ranelagh  Gardens, 
where,  in  a new  gown  he  had  given  her,  she  looked  more  beautiful 
than  any  of  the  ladies  about  her.  For  some  time  she  sat  listening 
to  a concert  in  one  of  the  pavilions,  with  the  sparkling  eyes  and 
flushed  cheeks  of  a country  girl  at  a play,  then  suddenly,  to  the 
astonishment  and  mortification  of  her  companion,  she  rose  from  her 
seat  and,  taking  an  uninvited  part  in  the  performance,  sang  one  of 
the  songs  she  had  been  learning  under  her  instructor.  This 
exhibition  of  her  talents  was  received  with  delighted  applause  by 
the  audience,  who  wondered  who  the  beautiful  young  woman  could 
be ; but  Greville,  shocked  out  of  all  good  temper  insisted  on  her 
leaving  with  him  at  once.  To  a man  of  his  sensitive  temperament, 
shrinking  from  anything  like  vulgar  publicity,  such  a performance 
from  the  woman  at  his  side  was  naturally  objectionable  to  the  last 
degree.  On  the  way  home  he  was  silent  and  angry,  and  the  fair 
Emma’s  excitement  having  subsided,  she  was  no  doubt  conscious  of 
the  deep  offence  she  had  given  to  her  guardian.  Upon  reaching 
the  house  at  Paddington  Green  she  ran  up  to  her  bedroom  and 
appeared  presently  in  the  old  brown  dress  she  had  worn  upon 
leaving  her  Flintshire  village.  With  tears  in  her  eyes  she  ex- 
pressed contrition  for  her  fault,  protesting  that  she  was  un- 
worthy of  Grevilie’s  kindness  and  instruction,  and  that  he  would 
be  right  in  sending  her  away  ; she  would  go  back  to  her  old  home 
again  and  he  as  miserable  as  she  had  been  when  he  had  rescued 
her.  Grevilie’s  anger  was  dispelled  by  such  simplicity  and  pathos, 
and,  after  reading  her  a severe  lecture  in  his  firmest  manner, 
graciously  pardoned  the  contrite  beauty,  and  restored  her  to  his 
good  favours. 

Thus  goes  this  interesting  and  romantic  story ; but  whether  it  is 
founded  on  anything  but  the  imaginative  invention  of  some  anony- 
mous biographer  is  highly  doubtful.  Although  the  fair  Emma  was 


27 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


of  an  excitable  nature,  and,  certainly  in  later  years,  took  an 
extreme  pleasure  in  the  exhibition  of  her  beauty  and  talent,  it 
seems  improbable  that  she  could  have  interrupted  a public  perform- 
ance in  such  a sensational  and  uncalled  for  manner. 

To  these  days  belongs  Emma’s  introduction  to  the  painter, 
Romney,  which  led  to  her  first  celebrity  as  a beauty,  and  to  one  of 
the  most  unfounded  and  basest  accusations  against  her  character. 
George  Romney  was,  like  Emma  herself,  of  humble  origin ; his 
father  had  been  a carpenter,  cabinet  maker  and  small  farmer  in  a 
Cumberland  village.  Showing  an  early  inclination  for  art,  the  boy 
had  been  apprenticed  to  an  eccentric  and  prolific  portrait  painter 
named  Christopher  Steele,  and  under  the  instruction  of  this  man 
his  genius  was  quickly  revealed.  As  soon  as  he  had  served  his 
apprenticeship  he  was  rash  enough  to  marry,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  a girl  of  his  own  class,  who  bore  him  two  children  (one  of 
whom  died  in  infancy)  at  a time  when  he  had  the  poorest  prospects 
of  supporting  them.  He  set  up  a studio  in  Kendal  and  succeeded 
in  scraping  up  a living  by  painting  portraits  of  the  local  gentry. 
But  he  only  received  paltry  prices  for  this  work,  and  his  commis- 
sions were  few  and  far  between,  while  he  was  secretly  convinced 
that  his  power  entitled  him  to  both  fame  and  fortune.  There  was 
only  one  goal  for  his  ambition,  the  great  art  world  of  London,  and 
he  determined  to  leave  his  family  under  the  charge  of  his  father,  so 
that  he  might  be  free  to  work  out  his  destiny.  It  was  in  1762, 
when  twenty-eight  years  old,  that  Romney  took  this  bold  step.  He 
managed  to  raise  about  a hundred  pounds  by  putting  up  all  his 
stock  of  paintings  and  studies  in  a lottery  sale,  and,  giving  half  to 
his  wife,  arrived  in  London  with  the  humble  capital  of  fifty  pounds. 
At  Dove  Court,  near  the  Mansion  House,  and  afterwards  in  Great 
Newport  Street,  where  his  future  rival  Reynolds  had  previously 
lived  before  moving  into  his  fine  house  in  Leicester  Square,  the 
young  painter  took  lodgings  and  worked  industriously  with  his 


28 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “ BACCHANTE.”  BY  ROMNEY. 
From  the  original  painting  in  the  Cranbury  Park  Collection. 
By  kind  permission  of  Tankerville  Chamberlayne  Esq.,  M.P. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


brush.  He  was  successful  in  carrying  off  the  second  prize  of  fifty 
guineas,  offered  by  the  Society  of  Arts,  with  a painting  of  “ The 
Death  of  General  Wolfe,”  and  this  picture  he  subsequently  sold  for 
twenty-five  guineas.  This  success  was  very  valuable  to  him,  not 
only  in  providing  urgently  needed  funds,  but  in  bringing  him  into 
public  notice.  He  was  able  to  get  many  sitters  for  portraits,  at 
the  moderate  price  of  five  guineas  a head,  and  as  he  was  a rapid 
worker  he  soon  found  himself  earning  a fairly  substantial  income. 
At  this  time  also  he  obtained  the  friendship  of  Richard  Cumber- 
land, a well  known  dramatist  and  novelist  of  the  day,  who  had 
many  distinguished  acquaintances,  and  was  therefore  able  to 
introduce  the  young  painter  to  patrons  of  art.  Cumberland  was 
quick  to  recognise  the  genius  of  the  young  North  Countryman, 
and  wrote  a poem — excellent  as  a means  of  advertisement,  however 
faulty  in  metre-in  which  he  bade  “ Romney,  advance ! be  known; 
and  be  admired.”  The  painter  would  now  have  been  well  able  to 
bring  his  wife  and  child  to  London,  and  to  support  them  in  comfort, 
but  for  some  reason,  which  has  never  been  explained,  he  failed  to 
do  so.  Perhaps  the  objection  was  on  Mrs.  Romney’s  side,  and 
being  an  uneducated,  plain  country  woman,  she  may  have  refused  to 
live  in  an  environment  unsuited  to  her  nature,  where,  perhaps,  she 
would  have  been  scorned  and  ridiculed  by  her  husband’s  fashionable 
sitters.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Romney,  though  he  occasionally  visited 
his  wife  in  Cumberland,  never  lived  with  her  again  until  a few  years 
before  his  death,  when  she  tenderly  nursed  him  in  his  invalid,  and 
almost  imbecile,  condition.  But  there  is  no  truth  in  the  charge 
that  Romney  was  actuated  by  miserly  motives,  for  he  was  noted  for 
the  generous  way  in  which  he  gave  money  to  friends  in  distress, 
and  he  advanced  considerable  sums  to  other  members  of  his  family. 
For  two  and  a-half  years  he  travelled  on  the  Continent  studying  the 
world’s  masterpieces  at  Rome,  Florence,  Bologna,  Venice,  Turin, 
Paris  and  other  cities,  and  then,  with  a fund  of  new  experience  and 


29 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


new  ideals,  returned  to  London  and  established  himself  in  Caven- 
dish Square.  Richard  Cumberland  and  another  fashionable 
litterateur , named  Hayley,  still  befriended  him  by  procuring  intro- 
ductions to  wealthy  patrons,  and  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  whose 
portrait  he  painted,  and  who  greatly  admired  his  work,  was 
specially  kind  to  him  in  this  way ; he  not  only  commissioned 
Romney  to  paint  the  portraits  of  celebrities,  like  Admiral  Keppel, 
Lord  George  Lennox,  Lord  John  Cavendish,  Edmund  Burke,  and 
other  great  people  in  whom  the  Duke  was  interested,  but  set  the 
tide  of  fashion  in  favour  of  a painter  whose  genius  rivalled  that  of 
Sir  Joshua  himself,  and— -not  a matter  of  small  importance,  even  to 
noble  lords — whose  prices  were  so  very  much  more  moderate. 

As  the  years  passed  and  his  reputation  increased,  Romney  put 
up  his  price,  but  between  1776  and  1781  his  price  for  a head  was 
only  eighteen  guineas  compared  with  the  thirty-five  guineas  of 
Reynolds  for  the  same  period.  How  paltry  do  these  sums  now 
seem  in  comparison  with  the  present  worth  of  the  pictures  by  these 
two  masters,  and  in  comparison  with  the  prices  of  the  fashionable 
portrait  painters  of  to-day  ! 

But  although  Romney  at  his  best  was  always  a worthy  rival  of 
Reynolds,  towards  whom  he  always  showed  a rather  morose  and 
jealous  disposition,  he  never  attained  the  same  prosperity,  or  the 
same  contemporary  renown.  His  friend,  Richard  Cumberland,  has 
left  on  record  the  weakness  of  his  character,  and  the  disappoint- 
ments he  met  with ; — shy,  private,  studious  and  contemplative ; 
conscious  of  all  the  disadvantages  and  privations  of  a very  stinted 
education  ; of  a nature  naturally  hypochondriac,  with  aspen  nerves, 
which  his  own  and  every  breath  could  ruffle  ; he  was  at  once  in  art  the 
rival,  and  in  nature  the  very  contrast  of  Sir  Joshua.  A man  of  few 
wants,  strict  economy,  with  no  dislike  of  money,  he  had  opportunities 
enough  to  enrich  him  even  to  satiety;  but  he  was  at  once  eager  to  begin 
and  so  slow  in  finishing  his  portraits,  that  he  was  for  ever  disappointed 


30 


A Biographical  Essay. 


of  receiving  payment  for  them  by  casualties  and  revolutions  in  the 
families  they  were  designed  for.  So  many  of  his  sitters  were  killed 
off,  so  many  favourite  ladies  were  dismissed,  so  many  fond  wives  were 
divorced  before  he  could  bestow  half  an  hour’s  pains  on  their  petti- 
coats, that  his  unsaleable  stock  was  immense ; whilst  with  a little  more 
regularity  and  decision  he  would  have  more  than  doubled  his  fortune, 
and  escaped  an  infinitude  of  petty  troubles  that  disturbed  his  temper. 

Among  Romney’s  patrons  and  admirers  was  the  Earl  of  Warwick, 
to  whose  notice  Richard  Cumberland  had  now  brought  him,  and  it 
was  by  this  means  that  the  Honourable  Charles  Greville,  the  Earl’s 
second  son,  came  to  select  Romney  as  the  painter  who  might 
perpetuate  the  charms  of  his  fair  Emma,  who  was  now  at  the 
period  of  her  most  exquisite  beauty.  The  portrait  painter  was 
enraptured  at  the  sight  of  Mr.  Greville’s  protegee.  Here,  indeed,  was 
a woman  who  might  inspire  his  highest  genius.  Never  before  had 
he  painted  from  a model  so  perfect  in  form  and  features,  so  fresh 
and  ripe  in  colouring,  with  such  soft  and  graceful  symmetry,  with 
such  sweet  and  sensitive  expression.  The  painter  received  her  as 
a kind  of  gift  from  the  gods,  as  if  one  of  the  statues  of  an  early 
Greek  master  had  been  endowed  with  life,  and  come  in  the  glory  of 
the  flesh  to  visit  his  rooms.  With  Greville’s  consent,  and  to  the 
great  pleasure  of  that  gentleman,  it  was  arranged  that  Emma 
should  sit  for  Romney  frequently,  and  indeed,  regularly  for  some 
time,  so  that  he  might  paint  her  in  various  attitudes,  and  as  the  type 
of  various  classical  characters. 

For  two  or  three  years,  therefore,  Emma’s  chief  change  from 
the  monotonous  and  somewhat  narrow  existence  at  Paddington 
Green  was  her  attendance  at  the  studio  of  George  Romney  in 
Cavendish  Square.  As  the  painter  has  himself  recorded,  Greville 
was  careful  of  the  proprieties,  and  Emma  invariably  made  the 
journey  to  and  fro  in  a hackney  carriage,  so  that  she  might  not  be 
seen  walking  in  the  public  streets  alone,  and  on  many  occasions 


31 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


was  accompanied  by  her  mother,  Mrs.  Cadogan.  These  hours  with 
Romney  were  no  doubt  very  happy  ones.  Emma  delighted  in  her 
own  beauty,  and  her  innocent  vanity  was  gratified  to  the  full  by  the 
painter’s  homage  and  flattery.  He  found  her  a model  a thousand 
times  more  valuable  than  the  ordinary  fashionable  women  who  had 
come  to  sit  to  him,  for  Emma,  as  he  soon  found,  had  a natural 
genius  for  dramatic  expression,  gesture  and  pose.  She  divined  by 
a kind  of  inspiration  his  own  ideal  of  any  allegorical  or  classical 
characters,  and  she  could  adopt  with  extraordinary  facility  an 
expression  of  timidity,  horror,  haughtiness,  shy  innocence,  tender- 
ness, grief,  or  sensuous  charm,  in  a manner  that  left  nothing  to  his 
imagination.  It  pleased  her  to  astonish  him  with  new  attitudes  and 
with  the  variety  of  her  expressions ; and  no  doubt  the  painter 
suggested  poses  in  imitation  of  the  classical  pictures  and  statuary 
which  had  entranced  him  in  Rome  and  Florence.  It  was  this 
training,  and  the  revelation  of  her  own  dramatic  power,  which 
suggested  to  Emma,  in  after  days,  when  she  had  become  Lady 
Hamilton,  the  famous  “ attitudes  ” with  which  she  used  to  delight 
the  Court  of  Naples.  In  simple  flowing  drapery,  with  a shawl,  and 
a few  accessories,  she  used  to  pose  in  a series  of  imitations  of 
classic  art,  and  many  tributes  were  paid  by  her  contemporaries  to 
the  real  grace  and  beauty  of  her  performances. 

From  first  to  last,  Romney  painted  about  twenty-five  finished 
portraits  of  Emma  Hart,  or  Lady  Hamilton,  as  she  afterwards 
became,  besides  many  studies.  He  ransacked  his  limited  know- 
ledge of  classical  mythology  and  ancient  history  for  characters 
she  might  represent,  and  her  face  and  form  are  now  familiar  to 
all  lovers  of  art,  under  such  various  guises  as  St.  Cecilia, 
Cassandra,  Diana,  Iphigenia,  Calypso,  Joan  of  Arc,  Mary  Magdalen, 
“ Sensibility,”  Circe,  A Pythian  Priestess,  A Spinstress,  A 
Bacchante  and  a Sibyl,  besides  others  in  her  own  dress,  such 
as,  the  simple,  sweet-faced  “ Emma,”  showing  his  beautiful 


32 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “ CASSANDRA.”  BY  ROMNEY. 
Prom  the  original  painting  in  the  Cranhury  Park  Collection . 
By  kind  permission  of  Taukcrville  Chamberlayne  Esq.,  M.P. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


model  as  she  may  often  have  appeared  to  him  when  stepping  out 
of  the  hackney  coach  that  came  from  Edgeware  Road.  Perhaps 
it  is  his  “Circe”  that  best  reveals  the  astonishing  loveliness  of 
Greville’s  protegee,  in  those  early  years  before  her  figure  had 
over-ripened.  She  was  then  only  nineteen  years  of  age,  and,  in 
spite  of  her  vicissitudes,  she  seems  from  this  and  other  portraits 
to  have  retained  a virginal  innocence  of  expression,  as  well  as 
the  most  perfect  delicacy  of  features.  There  is,  in  fact,  none 
of  the  sensuousness  of  the  goddess  who  formed  men  into  swine 
in  this  youthful  “ Circe,”  who  stands  erect  with  upraised  hand 
and  grave,  lustrous  eyes,  and  a purity  of  expression  that  might 
shine  in  the  eyes  of  a Christian  saint  protesting  against  heathen 
idols,  and  proclaiming  her  faith,  in  the  Roman  amphitheatre. 
The  chaste  and  delicate  lines  of  her  figure  are  revealed  through 
the  close-clinging  drapery,  though  in  perfect  modesty.  Altogether, 
Romney’s  “Circe”  is  a noble  and  beautiful  creature,  and  if  this 
was  the  true  Emma,  Greville  and  his  uncle  did  not  exaggerate  in 
saying  that  she  was  as  admirable  as  anything  in  antique  art. 

In  an  age  when  any  intimate  relationship  between  man  and 
woman  was  the  subject  of  coarse  suggestion  and  evil  construction, 
it  is  natural,  perhaps,  that  the  frequent  visits  of  Emma  to  Romney’s 
studio  should  have  provided  the  choicest  scandal  for  the  literary 
scavengers  of  the  day,  who  were  always  eager  for  the  sport  of 
curs,  in  hunting  down  a woman’s  fame.  To  their  low-bred  minds 
it  seemed  impossible  that  there  should  be  any  innocence  of  friend- 
ship between  such  a beautiful  girl  and  the  painter  who  loved  to 
reproduce  her  grace  and  charm  on  many  canvases.  It  was  known 
that  Romney  had  a wife  and  child,  with  whom  he  did  not  live. 
It  was  famous  also  in  after  days  that  “ Nelson’s  Lady  Hamilton  ” 
had  been  a frail  woman.  Surely,  therefore,  every  moral  and 
righteous  person  was  justified  in  drawing  the  inevitable  conclusion? 
It  is  a worthy  philosophy  that  belongs  not  to  one  age  or  to  one 


33 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


nation.  “ Two  and  two  make  four”  is  a simple  sum  in  arithmetic, 
whether  it  be  in  the  present  year  of  grace  or  in  the  days  when 
the  mental  arithmetic  of  society  was  taught  in  the  school  of  life 
where  passions  were  less  restrained,  and  Dame  Grundy  was 
always  busy  with  her  birch  rod.  Yet,  after  all,  two  and  two 
do  not  always  make  four,  whatever  the  school  books  may  say, 
and  though  Romney  was  a wifeless  husband,  and  Emma  had 
been  weak,  the  “inevitable  conclusion”  is  not  in  this  case  so 
easy  as  it  looks.  It  is  a very  narrow  view  of  human  nature  to 
think  that  because  a woman  has  fallen  into  sin  she  must  be 
always  sinning.  To  any  fair  and  healthy  mind  there  is  no  evidence 
whatever  that  Emma’s  affection  for  Romney  was  not  of  the  most 
innocent  and  spotless  kind,  based  upon  reverence  for  a man  old 
nough  to  be  her  father,  and  upon  gratitude  for  all  his  goodness 
to  her.  Surely  there  must  be  something  rotten  in  society  if 
a lady  cannot  sit  to  an  artist  for  her  portrait  without  causing 
the  whispers  of  malicious  tongues ! 

In  the  anonymous  “ Memoirs  of  Lady  Hamilton,”  which,  in  spite 
of  containing  a number  of  lies  that  have  now  been  nailed  to  the 
counter,  still  influence  the  public  mind  against  the  character  of  the 
woman  so  grossly  maligned  in  them,  it  is  boldly  stated  that 
Romney’s  “ propensities  to  sensual  indulgence  were  well  known  to 
all  his  acquaintances.  With  Emma  he  became  enamoured  while 
painting  her  picture,  as  Apelles  fell  in  love  with  Campaspe. 
Certain  it  is  that  the  modern  artist  had  no  cause  to  complain  of  the 
severity  of  his  mistress.”  This  statement  is  only  one  of  the  many 
gross  libels  with  which  the  book  abounds,  for,  far  from  his 
“ propensities  to  sensual  indulgence  being  well  known  to  all  his 
acquaintances,”  not  a word  against  his  moral  character  was 
written  by  his  biographers,  Hay  ley  and  Cumberland,  who  knew  him 
intimately,  and  were  candid  in  revealing  his  natural  weaknesses. 
Shy  and  retiring,  and  even  morose  at  times,  he  never  felt  quite  at 


34 


A Biographical  Essay. 


ease  among  the  fashionable  people  who  came  to  his  studio,  and 
although  he  rhapsodised  over  the  beauty  of  Emma  to  the  few 
friends  who  obtained  his  confidence,  they  at  least  never  suspected 
or  accused  him  of  having  anything  more  than  a fatherly  feeling  for 
his  inspiring  model,  coupled  with  a painter’s  enthusiastic  homage  for 
her  charms.  Nor  is  there  any  truth  in  the  statement,  repeated  in 
various  ways  by  modern  biographers  of  both  Romney  and  Lady 
Hamilton,  that  the  characters  in  which  he  depicted  her  could  not 
be  even  represented  without  a wantonness  of  countenance,  habili- 
ment, and  attitude.”  Apart  from  the  earnest  assurance  of 
Romney’s  son,  that  Emma  only  sat  for  the  face  and  a first  sketch 
of  the  figure,  the  drapery  and  details  of  the  form  being  painted  from 
another  model,  there  is  nothing  in  any  one  of  the  pictures  in  which 
Romney  portrayed  her  that  offends  the  strictest  ideals  of  modesty 
either  in  posture  or  expression. 

Above  all,  the  slander  is  disproved  by  the  behaviour  of  Charles 
Greville,  who,  in  spite  of  his  peculiar  sense  of  honour,  was  certainly 
extremely  careful  of  Emma’s  good  behaviour  while  she  remained 
under  his  protection.  As  already  said,  upon  Romney’s  own  testimony, 
he  safeguarded  her  reputation  by  providing  a hackney  carriage  to 
take  her  to  and  from  the  studio,  so  that  she  need  not  be  seen  walking 
in  the  streets,  and  on  many  occasions  Mrs.  Cadogan  accompanied  her. 
That  he  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  her  propriety  during  the  whole 
time  she  was  with  him  may  be  seen  from  the  letters  which  he  wrote 
to  Sir  William  Hamilton  at  the  end  of  that  period.  “She  has  never 
wished  for  one  improper  acquaintance,”  he  said.  “ She  has  dropt 
everyone  she  thought  I could  take  exception  against,  and  those  of 
her  own  choice  have  been  in  a line  with  prudence  and  plainness, 
which,  though  I might  have  wished  for,  I could  not  have  proposed 
to  confine  her.  If  you  can  find  only  one  or  two  acquaintances,  and 
let  her  learn  music  and  drawing,  or  anything  to  keep  her  in  order, 
she  will  be  as  happy  as  if  you  gave  her  every  change  of  dissipation.” 


35 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


And  again,  in  another  letter,  he  wrote:  “You  know  that  from 
giddiness  and  dissipation  she  is  prudent  and  quiet,  and  that, 
surrounded  with  temptations,  I have  not  any  the  least  reason  to 
complain  of  her.  My  attentions  do  not  lead  me  to  make  a parade  of 
her,  and  a sacrifice  of  my  amusements  or  business.  The  secret  is 
simple — she  has  pride  and  vanity.  I have  for  some  years  directed 
them  for  her  happiness.”  This  alluded,  no  doubt,  to  her  attendance 
upon  Romney.  “ She  does  not,”  Greville  went  on,  “ wish  for  much 
society,  but  to  retain  two  or  three  quiet  creditable  acquaintances  in 
the  neighbourhood.  She  has  avoided  every  appearance  of  giddiness, 
and  prides  herself  on  the  neatness  of  her  person  and  the  good  order 
of  her  house.” 

It  is  perfectly  evident  that  Greville  was  not  only  thoroughly 
satisfied  with  the  good  behaviour  of  Emma  herself,  but  that  he  had 
not  the  least  jealousy  of  Romney.  Even  after  he  had  abandoned 
the  girl  who  loved  him,  he  wrote  to  the  painter  in  the  friendliest 
manner  respecting  his  portrait  of  her  as  “ The  Spinstress.”  The 
letter  is  doubly  interesting  because  it  reveals  Greville  in  his  best 
“Sir  Charles  Grandison”  manner,  self-complacent  and  full  of 
“ noble  sentiments.” 

“ There  are  circumstances  in  connection  with  the  transaction,”  he 
wrote,  “ which  force  the  natural  bias  of  characters,  and  render  it 
prudent  to  change  the  scene  of  action  to  train  them  to  necessary 
sacrifices.  The  separation  from  the  original  of  ‘ The  Spinstress  ’ has 
not  been  indifferent  to  me,  and  I am  but  just  reconciled  to  it,  from 
knowing  that  the  beneficial  consequences  of  acquirement  will  be 
obtained,  and  that  the  aberration  from  the  plan  I intended  will  be 
for  her  benefit.  I therefore  can  have  no  reason  to  value  ‘ The 
Spinstress  ’ less  than  I have  done ; on  the  contrary,  the  first  estima- 
tion of  its  merits  is  ascertained  from  the  offer  of  a person  who  does 
not  know  the  original ; yet  I find  myself  daily  so  much  poorer  that 
I do  not  foresee  what  I can  pay  for  it ; and  I am  already  too  much 


36 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “CASSANDRA.”  BY  ROMNEY. 
In  the  possession  of  General  Sir  Arthur  Ellis. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


obliged  to  you  to  avail  myself,  in  any  degree,  of  your  kindness  to 
me.  Perhaps  Mr.  Christian  might  accept  my  resignation  of  it,  and 
pay  for  it,  and  give  me  the  option  of  repurchasing,  if  the  improbable 
event  of  my  increase  of  means  shall  enable  me  to  recover  what  I 
now  lose  with  regret.  But  I can  make  no  condition,  and  I leave  the 
full  and  entire  disposal  of  it  to  you.” 

Years  afterwards,  as  Lady  Hamilton,  Emma  remembered  her  old 
friend  Romney  with  gratitude  and  affection,  writing  to  him  as  “ my 
dear  sir,  my  friend,  my  more  than  father,” — terms  that  do  not 
suggest  anything  but  an  innocent  and  reverent  relationship  with 
him,  and,  as  will  be  seen  later,  when  she  returned  to  England  as  Sir 
William  Hamilton’s  wife,  she  took  her  husband  to  Romney’s  Studio, 
rejoicing  the  melancholy  painter  with  the  warmth  of  her  greeting, 
and  giving  him  a spell  of  new  life  and  hope  as  she  became  once 
again  the  inspiration  of  his  genius. 


37 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Chapter  III. 

IT  has  been  seen  from  Greville’s  letters,  previously  quoted,  that 
A Emma  led  a quiet  and,  with  the  exception  of  her  visits  to  Romney, 
an  uneventful  life  during  her  residence  in  Edgeware  Road,  but  she  was 
contented  and  happy.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was  in  love, 
and  her  heart  was  filled  with  the  sweetness  of  domesticity.  Greville, 
the  man  of  culture,  the  elegant  connoisseur,  and  amiable  moralist, 
seemed  to  her  “the  very  best  of  men,”  as  she  was  afterwards  to  seem 
in  Nelson’s  eyes  “the  most  perfect  of  her  sex.”  It  is  quite  clear  from 
her  behaviour  and  her  letters  at  this  time  that  she  had  a sincere 
and  ardent  affection  for  him.  She  was  miserable  when  by  any  little 
fault  she  had  displeased  him,  and  happy  beyond  words  when  he 
praised  her  diligence,  her  good  conduct,  or  her  beauty.  High 
spirited  as  she  was,  and  “ though,”  as  she  said,  “ my  little  temper 
may  have  been  sometimes  high,”  she  received  his  reproofs 
with  wonderful  docility,  and  craved  for  no  other  companionship  so 
long  as  he  was  by  her  side.  Never  was  she  so  melancholy  and 
dejected  as  when  she  was  parted  from  him,  even  for  a short  time. 

“Pray,  my  dear  Greville,”  she  wrote  in  the  June  of  1784,  when 
she  was  off  to  a seaside  place  in  Cheshire  to  pick  up  in  health, 
“ Do  let  me  come  home  as  soon  as  you  can,  for  I am  almost  broken- 
hearted being  from  you  ; indeed  I have  no  pleasure  nor  happiness. 
I wish  I could  not  think  on  you,  but  if  I was  the  greatest  lady  in  the 
world  I should  not  be  happy  from  you,  so  don’t  let  me  stay 
long.  . . . Indead,  my  dear  Greville,  you  don’t  know  how  much 

I love  you,  and  your  behaviour  to  me  even  when  we  parted  was  so 
kind.  Greville,  I don’t  know  what  to  do,  but  I will  make  you 


38 


A Biographical  Essay. 


amends  by  my  kind  behaviour  to  you,  for  I have  gratitude,  and  will 
show  it  you  all  as  I can : so  don’t  think  of  my  faults,  Greville,  think 
of  all  my  good,  and  blot  out  all  my  bad,  for  it  is  all  gone  and  buried, 
never  to  come  again.  So  good-bye,  my  dear  Greville,  think  of 
nobody  but  me,  for  I have  not  a thought  but  for  you ; and  praying 
for  you  and  for  us  to  meet  again.  God  bless  you,  and  believe  me — 
Yours  truly  and  affectionately, 

Emma  Hart.” 

In  the  same  month  she  sent  another  letter  to  her  protector,  full 
of  the  same  warm  sentiments  and  simple  promises  of  good 
behaviour,  if  only  she  might  go  home  to  him  soon. 

“My  ever  dear  Greville,”  she  wrote,  “how  teadious  does  the 
time  pass  awhay  till  I hear  from  you ; I think  it  ages  since  I saw 
you,  and  years  since  I heard  from  you ; indead,  I should  be 
miserable  if  I did  not  recollect  on  what  happy  terms  we  parted, 
parted  to  meet  again  with  tenfold  happiness.  O Greville,  when 
I think  of  your  goodness,  your  tender  kindness,  my  heart  is  full  of 
gratitude,  that  I want  words  to  express  it.  But  I have  one  happi- 
ness in  view  which  I am  determined  to  practise,  and  that  is 
evenness  of  temper  and  steadiness  of  mind,  for  indead,  I have 
thought  so  much  of  your  amiable  goodness  when  you  have  been 
tried  to  the  utmost,  that  I will,  indead  I will,  manage  myself,  and 
try  to  be  like  Greville.  Indead,  I can  never  be  like  him,  but  I will 
do  all  I can  towards  it,  and  I am  sure  you  will  not  desire  more.  I 
think  if  the  time  would  come  over  again  I would  be  different.  But 
it  does  not  matter,  there  is  nothing  like  Buying  expearance ; I may 
be  happyer  for  it  hereafter,  and  I will  think  of  the  time  coming  and 
not  of  the  time  past,  except  to  make  comparasons  to  show  you 
what  alteration  there  is  for  the  best,  so,  my  dearest  Greville,  don’t 
think  on  my  past  follies,  think  of  my  good,  little  as  it  has  been,  and 
I will  make  you  amends  by  my  kind  behaviour.” 

Reading  between  the  lines  of  these  letters,  one  may  not  only  see 


39 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


the  very  real  love  of  the  girl  for  the  man  whom  she  regarded  as  of 
infinite  superiority  to  herself,  but  also,  perhaps,  a hidden  anxiety 
that  he  might  have  grown  tired  of  her,  and  wished  to  release 
himself  from  his  responsibility  for  protecting  her.  Perhaps  she  had 
already  seen  signs  in  him  of  a certain  restlessness  and  coldness,  and 
he  may  have  thrown  out  vague  but  alarming  hints  that  their 
relationship  could  not  last  for  ever.  His  ambitions  had  been 
stirred  by  the  prospect  of  obtaining  the  office  of  Vice-Chamberlain, 
and  it  is  likely  that  candid  friends  had  warned  him  of  the  possible 
danger  to  the  brilliant  promise  of  his  future  if  he  kept  up  his  now 
well-known  liason  with  the  beautiful  Emma.  Then,  too,  the  expense 
of  the  menage  in  Edgeware  Road  was  somewhat  of  a drain  upon  his 
very  moderate  income,  and,  being  a man  in  whom  prudence  was 
never  enslaved  by  passion,  he  was  already  considering  the  advis- 
ability of  terminating  a social  tie  which  had  been  very  pleasant  for  a 
time,  but  which  was  beginning  to  be  a little  irksome  and  embarrass- 
ing. Emma  was  now  a woman  of  some  experience  in  the  ways  of 
the  world,  and  she  also  had  a highly  sensitive  nature,  which  would 
warn  her  of  the  slightest  change  in  the  temper  of  her  admirer.  She 
might  well  have  been  a little  panic-stricken  therefore  at  the  thought 
of  losing  her  hold  upon  Greville’s  affection  and  patience.  The 
Honourable  Charles  Greville,  however,  was  a man  who  moved 
slowly  and  circumspectly.  His  own  sense  of  dignity  would  not 
allow  him  to  break  with  Emma  in  so  violent  and  vulgar  a manner 
as  the  fox-hunting  squire,  who  had  been  his  predecessor.  For  a 
time  she  was  lulled  into  a sense  of  security,  and  Greville  still 
treated  her  with  “ amiable  goodness.” 

The  quiet  routine  of  the  little  household  had  been  interrupted 
by  the  visit  of  Sir  William  Hamilton  to  England  in  1784,  and 
Emma  was  excited  and  flattered  by  the  homage  paid  to  her  by 
the  distinguished  uncle  of  her  “ ever  dear  Greville.”  The  poor 
girl’s  alarms  would  have  been  increased  an  hundred-fold  had  she 


40 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “ THE  AMBASSADRESS.” 

ENGRAVED  BY  T.  G.  APPLETON,  AFTER  GEORGE  ROMNEY. 
From  the  picture  in  the  possession  of  Sir  Robert  Harvey , Dart. 

By  permission  of  Messrs.  Henry  Graves  &•  Sons. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


overheard  the  conversation  of  those  two  connoisseurs  when  they 
sat  over  their  port  wine,  after  she  had  left  them  to  their  tete- 
a-tete,  on  the  evenings  when  the  Ambassador  honoured  his  nephew 
with  a visit.  But  she  had  no  fear  of  Sir  William.  He  seemed 
old  enough  to  be  her  father — a suggestion  which  angered  Greville 
when  she  spoke  her  candid  thoughts — and  he  had  an  easy  and 
affable  manner  with  her  which  made  them  the  best  of  friends.  His 
open  admiration  of  her  beauty  did  not  startle  her.  She  was  accus- 
tomed to  being  judged  like  a piece  of  classical  sculpture  by  Greville 
and -his  friends,  and  it  did  not  displease  her,  for  she  had  no  false 
modesty  concerning  her  looks.  Sir  William  called  her  “ the  fair 
tea-maker  of  Edgeware  Road,”  and  she  retorted  by  calling  him 
“ Pliny  the  Elder,”  a nickname  which  he  had  conferred  upon 
himself  in  a bantering  allusion  to  the  ancient  philosopher,  who, 
like  himself,  was  the  author  of  learned  books,  who,  like  himself, 
had  lived  in  Italy,  and,  like  himself  again,  had  a nephew — Pliny 
the  younger — who  was  his  friend  and  heir.  The  only  difference 
was  that  Pliny  the  Elder  had  died  at  the  age  of  fifty-six,  while 
Sir  William,  who  was  already  fifty-five,  hoped  to  live  much  longer. 
So,  between  “ Pliny  ” and  “ the  fair  tea-maker  ” there  was  a bonne 
camaraderie , and  when  Emma  went  away  for  the  seaside  holiday 
already  mentioned,  she  sent  him  affectionate  messages.  “Tell 
him,”  she  wrote  in  one  of  these  letters,  that  “ next  to  you,  I 
love  him  above  anybody,  and  that  I wish  I was  with  him  to  give 
him  a kiss.  Don’t  be  affronted,  Greville.  If  I was  with  you,  I 
would  give  you  a thousand,  and  you  might  take  as  many  as  you 
pleased,  for  I long — I mean  I long  to  see  you.” 

During  that  seaside  “ holiday,”  which  was  a time  of  exile  to 
Emma,  she  had  been  comforted  by  having  “ little  Emily  ” by  her 
side,  and  by  paying  a flying  visit  to  old  grandmother  Kidd.  Greville 
was  willing  to  provide  for  her  child’s  education  at  a good  prepara- 
tory school,  and  it  was  by  his  wish  that  she  had  fetched  her  from 


41 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Hawarden  and  taken  her  to  the  seaside,  to  which  Emma  herself 
had  been  ordered  bv  the  doctor  for  the  cure  of  a skin  trouble, 
before  bringing  the  little  one  to  London.  With  her  usual  generosity 
and  warm-heartedness  towards  her  relatives,  Emma  gave  Dame 
Kidd  five  guineas  in  return  for  some  small  sums  of  money  she 
had  spent  on  the  child’s  dress.  “ My  dear  Greville,  don’t  be 
angry,”  she  wrote  in  connection  with  this  payment,  “ I would  not 
take  her  money  shabbily.  But  Emma  shall  pay  you.”  The  com- 
panionship of  her  child,  who  had  grown  into  a “ romp,”  and 
outgrown  all  her  clothes  so  that  the  mother  was  kept  busy  “making 
and  mending.”  was  a great  source  of  joy  to  Emma,  though  of 
some  anxiety  too,  because  “ she  is  as  wild  and  as  thoughtless  as 
somebody  when  she  was  a little  girl ; so  you  may  guess  how 
that  is.”  She  tells  Greville  simole  little  anecdotes  which  reveal 

A. 

her  in  a new  and  touching  character.  “ Would  you  believe,”  she 
says,  “ on  Saturday  we  had  a little  quarrel.  I mean  Emma  and 
me ; and  I did  slap  her  on  her  hands  ; and  when  she  came  to 
kiss  me  and  make  it  up,  I took  her  on  my  lap  and  cried  . . . 
Oh  Greville,  you  don’t  know  how  1 love  her,  endead  I do.  When 
she  comes  and  looks  in  my  face  and  calls  me  “mother,”  endead 
I then  truly  am  a mother ; for  all  the  mother’s  feelings  rise  at 
once  and  tells  me  I am,  and  ought  to  be,  a mother.  For  she 
has  a wright  to  my  protection,  and  she  shall  have  it  as  long  as 
I can,  and  I will  do  all  I can  to  prevent  her  falling  into  the 
error  her  once  poor  miserable  mother  fell  into.” 

Greville  was  slow  in  answering  this  series  of  love-letters,  and  the 
cold  doubts  that  had  come  into  the  girl’s  heart  caused  her  intense 
anguish  and  anxiety*.  “ Can  you.  my  dear  Greville,”  she  cried  to 
him,  “ — no,  you  can’t — have  forgot  your  poor  Emma  already.  Tho’ 
I am  but  a few  weeks  absent  from  you,  my  heart  will  not  one 
moment  leave  you.  I am  always  thinking  of  you,  and  could  almost 
fancy  I hear  you  and  see  you ; and  think  Greville  what  a disappoint- 


42 


A Biographical  Essay. 


ment  when  I find  myself  deceived,  and  ever  nor  never  heard  from 
you.  But  my  heart  won’t  lett  me  scold  you.  Endead  it  thinks  on 
you  with  too  much  tenderness.  So  do  wright,  my  dear  Greville. 
Don’t  you  remember  how  you  promised  ? Don’t  you  recollect  what 
you  said  at  parting  ? — how  you  should  be  happy  to  see  me  again  ? 
O Greville,  think  on  me  with  kindness ! Think  how  many  happy 
days,  weeks  and  years — I hope — we  may  yet  pass.  And  think  out 
of  some  that  is  past  there  as  been  some  little  pleasure  as  well  as 
pain ; and,  endead,  did  you  but  know  how  much  I love  you,  you 
would  freily  forgive  me  any  past  quarels,  for  I now  suffer  for  them, 
and  one  line  from  you  would  make  me  happy.”  Fortunately  for  her 
peace  of  mind  a letter  at  last  arrived  from  Mr.  Greville,  and  by  its 
more  than  usually  affectionate  tone  dispelled  the  horrid  doubts  upon 
which  she  had  been  brooding.  Upon  her  return  to  London, 
however,  where  little  Emily  was  placed  in  a good  boarding  school, 
she  came  back  to  a lonely  house,  for  Greville  was  making  a round 
of  social  visits,  and  Sir  William  was  also  renewing  his  old  friend- 
ships in  various  parts  of  England.  Emma  still  pined  for  her 
protector,  and  her  spirits  were  still  further  depressed  by  a severe 
attack  of  measles  which  caused  her  much  suffering  and  feverish- 
ness. She  had  been  nine  weeks,  altogether,  without  seeing 
Greville,  and  the  separation  was  almost  more  than  she  could  bear. 
The  news  of  his  home-coming  was  an  inexpressible  relief,  and  she 
hastened  to  tell  him  of  the  joy  it  gave  her : “ I think  I shall  die  with 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,”  she  wrote.  “ Indead,  my  dearest 
Greville,  if  you  knew  how  much  I think  of  you,  you  would  love  me 
for  it,  for  I am  always  thinking  of  you  and  of  your  goodness.  In 
short,  Greville,  I truly  love  you,  and  the  thought  of  your  coming 
home  so  soon  makes  me  so  happy.  I don’t  know  what  to  do.” 
When  Greville  did  come  home,  followed  by  Sir  William  Hamilton, 
who  renewed  his  frequent  visits,  she  found  her  guardian  in  an 
affectionate  but  serious  frame  of  mind.  He  complained  of  his 


43 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


increasing  poverty.  His  financial  investments  had  not  been 
successful  of  late,  he  said,  and  he  was  becoming  seriously 
embarrassed.  Perhaps  he  had  been  rash  in  setting  up  the  house  in 
Edgeware  Road  without  sufficiently  calculating  the  expense  that  it 
would  entail  upon  his  limited  income.  Much  as  he  loved  his  Emma, 
it  would  be  a real  grief  to  him  if  he  had  to  deprive  her  of  any  of  the 
advantages  which  it  had  been  his  pleasure  to  give  her  in  the  way 
of  singing  and  piano  masters,  of  which  her  musical  talents  were  so 
fully  worthy.  What  was  to  be  done  ? He  must  certainly  cut  down 
his  expenditure,  or  ruin  would  stare  him  in  the  face. 

Emma  was  distressed  and  dismayed.  She  had  no  idea  that  he 
was  so  straitened  in  means,  and  it  grieved  her  to  think  that  she 
might  be  one  of  the  causes  of  his  pecuniary  anxiety.  She  consulted 
her  “ dear  Sir  William,”  and  that  excellent  and  distinguished  man 
listened  with  the  utmost  sympathy.  It  was  true  enough  that  poor 
Charles  was  in  debt,  and  that  he  would  have  to  revise  his  mode  of 
life.  It  had  caused  Sir  William  himself  some  anxious  thoughts, 
after  his  dear  nephew  had  unburdened  himself  of  his  cares.  A 
little  plan  occurred  to  him-— could  not  Emma  and  Mrs.  Cadogan 
accept  his  hospitality  for  a while  in  Italy  ? He  would  be  delighted 
to  have  them.  A lonely  old  bachelor  like  himself  wanted  some 
amiable  female  society  to  bring  a little  sunshine  into  his  household. 
Then,  too,  it  would  be  an  excellent  opportunity  for  Emma  to 
complete  her  musical  education.  Her  voice  was  much  too  good  to 
leave  untrained,  or  with  such  very  mediocre  training  as  she  could 
get  in  England.  If  she  would  stay  with  him  in  Naples  for  a time  it 
would  be  his  delight  to  provide  her  with  the  most  capable  Italian 
professors — the  best  in  the  world— and  little  the  knowing  how 
famous  she  would  become  when  her  voice  had  received  proper  care. 
As  soon  as  Charles  could  leave  his  parliamentary  duties  he  could 
join  them  in  Italy,  where  he  would  be  able  to  live  much  more 
cheaply  than  in  England,  and  there  they  would  be  a happy  family 


44 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  “ CIRCE.”  BY  ROMNEY. 

From  the  original  painting. 

By  kind  permission  of  the  owner , The  Hon.  H.  C.  Gibbs,  M.A. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


party,  the  leaders  of  English  society  in  Naples,  and  the  honoured 
friends  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  the  two  Sicilies  who  would 
welcome  Greville  and  his  fair  lady  as  much  for  their  own  sake  as 
for  his — the  British  Ambassador’s. 

It  was  a beautiful  plan.  Emma  herself  was  pleased  and  flattered 
with  the  idea,  and  when  she  broached  it  to  Greville  he  professed  his 
gratitude  to  his  dear  uncle  for  so  kind  and  excellent  a scheme. 
Emma  little  knew  of  the  bargain  that  had  been  struck  between  the 
uncle  and  nephew  on  the  eve  of  Sir  William  Hamilton’s  departure 
for  Naples,  and  did  not  guess  the  real  reasons  underlying  the 
proposed  arrangement.  The  fact  was  that  Greville  had  seen  how 
enamoured  his  uncle  was  of  “ the  fair  tea-maker  of  Edgeware 
Road,”  and  the  idea  quickly  came  to  him  that  here  was  an  excellent 
opportunity  of  ridding  himself  of  a girl  who,  as  he  now  recognised, 
stood  in  the  way  of  his  ambitions.  He  was  secretly  contemplating 
a marriage  with  a young  heiress  whose  dowry  and  distinguished 
connections  would  place  him  upon  a higher  rung  of  the  political  and 
social  ladder.  Secondly,  he  hoped  to  be  his  uncle’s  heir,  and  to 
ensure  this  it  was  necessary  to  prevent  Sir  William,  who  was  still 
in  the  prime  of  life,  from  entering  into  a legal  marriage.  If  he 
“ bought  love  ready  made,”  as  a clerical  relation  had  suggested  to 
him,  with  a very  un-clerical  sense  of  morality,  that  would  be  an 
excellent  safeguard  of  Greville’s  interests.  Lastly,  if  Sir  William 
coveted  the  fair  Emma  he  would,  no  doubt,  be  prepared  to  pay  a 
good  price  for  the  privilege  of  taking  her  off  his  nephew’s  hands. 
These  were  the  cards  which  Greville  played  with  the  astuteness 
and,  no  doubt,  with  the  fine  gentlemanly  restraint  which  always 
characterised  his  behaviour.  Probably  there  was  a good  deal  of 
fencing  and  subtle  bargaining  between  the  two  men  of  fashion.  It 
is  improbable  that  Emma  was  bought  and  sold  with  plain  words  and  at 
plain  figures.  There  were  fine  moral  sentiments,  and  the  cultured 
language  of  the  connoisseur,  as  well  as  vague,  tentative  suggestions, 


45 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


delicate  hints,  and  much  verbal  ingenuity  to  smother  up  a trans- 
action. But  though  the  words  of  the  bargain  were,  no  doubt, 
subtle  and  ambiguous,  the  facts  were  staring  enough.  Sir  William 
Hamilton  drew  up  a new  will  in  favour  of  his  nephew,  and  provided 
securities  for  the  payment  of  his  debts,  in  return  for  which  it  was 
arranged  that  shortly  after  the  Ambassador’s  return  to  Naples 
Emma  “Hart”  should  be  sent  on  to  him,  Greville  cancelling  all 
claims  upon  her  for  ever. 

It  was  a clever  piece  of  scoundrelism.  The  victim  went  gladly 
into  the  trap,  or  at  least  without  suspicion,  and  Greville’s  “ sensitive 
temperament  ” was  saved  from  distressing  scenes,  such  as  would 
have  been  inevitable  had  he  abandoned  Emma  in  England.  Once  in 
Italy,  she  would  at  least  be  unable  to  torture  his  nerves  by 
hysterical  reproaches  and  violent  despair.  Reproaches  by  corre- 
spondence are  not  so  annoying.  Then,  too,  it  would  have  been 
awkward  in  another  way  to  cast  her  off  in  London.  She  had 
friends  who  were  also  his  friends.  Romney  might ' have  talked, 
Greville’s  reputation  would  have  suffered.  But  now  the  blame 
would  fall  rather  upon  her  shoulders  than  his.  The  world  would 
think  that  she  had  left  him  willingly  to  become  the  mistress  of 
a British  Ambassador.  So  Greville  was  justified  in  feeling  as  self- 
complacent  as  ever,  and  as  he  smiled  into  his  port  wine  he  had  a 
right  to  flatter  himself  on  his  master-stroke  of  diplomacy. 

The  plan  worked  without  a hitch.  Emma  was  sad  at  parting,  but 
not  hysterical.  At  the  cost  of  a few  lies  he  persuaded  her  that  he 
would  soon  rejoin  her,  and,  with  the  feeling  that  she  was  sacrificing 
her  own  happiness  for  a time  to  ease  his  monetary  difficulties,  she 
stifled  her  vague  sense  of  alarm,  and,  with  her  devoted  mother,  set 
out  early  in  the  year  of  1786,  under  the  escort  of  Mr.  Gavin 
Hamilton,  the  painter — one  of  Sir  William’s  kinsmen — for  the  city 
of  Naples,  which  they  reached  on  her  birthday,  April  26th  of  that 
year. 


46 


A Biographical  Essay. 


Sir  William’s  reception  of  Emma  Hart  at  once  opened  her  eyes 
to  the  peril  of  her  situation,  and  filled  her  with  a sense  of  alarm. 
The  Ambassador  “ did  nothing  but  look  at  her  and  sigh.”  He  was 
very  kind  and  very  generous,  but  perhaps — no,  she  would  not 
accuse  him  of  any  improper  feeling  towards  her— and  she  would  tell 
Greville  exactly  of  the  way  he  treated  her,  and,  while  expressing 
her  gratitude,  hint  in  very  guarded  terms  of  the  danger  she  was  in. 
Surely,  surely,  Greville  meant  to  keep  his  promise.  He  could  not 
forget  the  love  that  had  been  between  them,  nor  be  so  base  as  to 
abandon  her  to  a horrible  fate. 

Her  first  letter  to  Greville  shows  the  torture  and  bewilderment 
of  her  mind.  She  tries  to  make  the  best  of  everything,  to  interpret 
Sir  William’s  behaviour  and  generosity  in  a high-minded  way,  but 
she  cannot  help  revealing  some  of  the  panic  in  her  heart,  and 
hinting  at  horrid  doubts,  which  might  be  only  the  products  of 
a disordered  imagination.  It  was  a letter  that  should  have  struck 
even  the  Honourable  Charles  Greville  with  a sense  of  pity  and 
shame. 

“ My  dearest  Greville,”  she  wrote  on  the  30th  of  April,  1786, 
“ I arrived  at  this  place  on  the  26th,  and  I should  have  begun 
to  write  sooner,  but  the  post  does  not  go  until  to-morrow,  and 
I dreaded  setting  down  to  write,  for  I try  to  apear  as  cheerful 
before  Sir  William  as  I could,  and  I am  sure  to  cry  the  moment 
I think  of  it.  For  I feel  more  and  more  unhappy  at  being  separated 
from  you,  and  if  my  fatal  ruin  depends  on  seeing  you,  I will  and 
must  to  the  end  of  the  summer.  For  to  live  without  you  is 
impossible.  I love  you  to  that  degree  that  at  this  time  there  is 
not  a hardship  upon  hearth,  either  of  poverty,  hunger,  cold,  death, 
or  even  to  walk  barefooted  to  Scotland  to  see  you,  but  what  I 
would  undergo.  Therefore,  my  dear  Greville,  if  you  do  love  me, 
for  my  sake  try  all  you  can  to  come  hear  as  soon  as  possible. 
You  have  a true  friend  in  Sir  William,  and  he  will  be  happy 


47 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


to  see  you,  and  do  all  he  can  to  make  you  happy.  And  for  me, 

I will  be  everything  you  can  wish  for.  I find  it  is  not  either  a 
fine  horse,  or  a fine  coach,  or  a pack  of  servants,  or  plays,  or  operas, 
can  make  happy.  It  is  you  that  as  it  in  your  power  to  make  me 
very  happy  or  very  miserable.  I respect  Sir  William,  I have  a very 
great  regard  for  him,  as  the  uncle  and  friend  of  you,  Greville. 
But  he  can  never  he  anything  nearer  to  me  than  your  uncle  and  my  sincere 
friend.  He  can  never  be  my  lover. 

“You  do  not  know  how  good  Sir  William  is  to  me.  He  is 
doing  everything  he  can  to  make  me  happy.  He  as  never  dined 
out  since  I came  hear ; and  endead,  to  speak  the  truth,  he  is  never 
out  of  my  sight.  He  breakfasts,  dines,  supes,  and  is  constantly  by 
me,  looking  in  my  face.  I can’t  stir  a hand,  leg  or  foot  but  he  is 
marking  [it]  as  graceful  and  fine  ; and,  I am  sorry  to  say  it,  he 
loves  me  now  as  much  as  ever  he  could  Lady  Bolingbroke. 
Endead  I am  sorry,  for  I cannot  make  him  happy.  I can  be 
civil  oblidging,  and  I do  try  to  make  myself  as  agreeable  as  I 
can  to  him,  but  I belong  to  you,  Greville,  and  to  you  only  I 
will  belong,  and  nobody  shall  be  your  heir-apearant.  You  do  not 
know  how  glad  I was  to  arrive  here  the  day  I did.  It  was  my 
birthday,  and  I was  very  low-spirited.  Oh  God  ! that  day  that 
you  used  to  smile  on  me,  and  stay  at  home,  and  be  kind  to 
me — that  that  day  I should  be  at  such  a distance  from  you ! But  my 
comfort  is  I rely  upon  your  promise,  and  September  or  October  I 
shall  see  you.  But  I am  quite  unhappy  at  not  hearing  from  you — 
no  letter  for  me  yet  Greville  ! But  I must  wait  with  patience.  We 
have  had  company  most  every  day  since  I came,  some  of  Sir 
William’s  friends.  They  are  all  very  much  pleased  with  me  ; and 
poor  Sir  William  is  never  so  happy  as  when  he  is  pointing  out  my 
beauties  to  them.  He  does  nothing  all  day  but  look  at  me  and 
sigh  . . . you  are  to  understand  I have  a carridge  of  Sir  Williams, 
a English  one,  painting  and  new  liverys,  and  new  coachman  and 


48 


UNFINISHED  SKETCH  OF  LADY  HAMILTON.  BY  LAWRENCE. 
(In  the  British  Museum). 


A Biographical  Essay. 


footman,  &c. — the  same  as  Mrs.  Darner  had  of  her  own,  for  she  did 
not  go  with  is.  For  if  I was  going  about  in  is  carridge,  they  would 
say  I was  either  his  wife  or  his  mistress.  Therefore,  as  I am  not, 
nor  ever  can  be  either,  we  have  made  a very  good  establishment. 
I have  a very  good  apartment  of  4 rooms,  very  pleasant,  looking  to 
the  sea.  Our  boat  comes  out  to-day  for  the  first  time,  and  we  are 
going  for  a day  or  two  to  Caserta.  I was  at  Paysilipe  yesterday. 
I think  it  a very  pretty  place. 

“ Sir  William  as  give  me  a camlet  shawl,  like  my  old  one.  I know 
you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that,  and  he  as  given  me  a beautiful 
gown,  cost  25  guineas  (India  painting  on  wite  sattin)  and  several 
little  things  of  Lady  Hamilton’s,  and  is  going  to  by  me  some  muslin 
dresses  loose,  to  tye  with  a sash  for  the  hot  weather — made  like 
the  turkey  dresses,  the  sleeves  tyed  in  fowlds  with  ribban  and  trimd 
with  lace.  In  short,  he  is  always  contriving  what  he  shall  get  for  me. 
The  people  admire  my  English  dresses.  But  the  blue  hat,  Greville, 
pleases  most.  Sir  William  is  quite  inchanted  with  it.  Oh,  how 
he  loves  you  ! He  told  me  he  had  made  is  will,  and  left  you  every- 
thing belonging  to  him.  That  made  me  very  happy  for  your  sake. 
Pray,  my  dear  Greville,  do  write  me  word  if  you  want  any  money. 
I am  affraid  I distressed  you.  But  I am  sure  Sir  William  will  send 
you  some,  and  I told  him  he  must  help  you  a little  now  and  send 
you  some  for  your  jurney  hear,  and  he  kissed  me,  and  the  tears 
came  into  is  eyes,  and  he  told  me  I might  command  anything,  for 
he  loved  us  both  dearly;  and  Oh  ! how  [happy]  I shall  be  when  I 
can  once  more  see  you,  my  dear,  dear  Greville.  You  are  everything 
that  is  dear  to  me  on  hearth,  and  I hope  happier  times  will  soon 
restore  you  to  me,  for  endead  I would  rather  be  with  you  starving, 
than  from  you  in  the  greatest  splendor  in  the  world. 

“ I have  only  to  say  I enclose  this  I wrote  yesterday,  and  I will 
not  venture  myself  now  to  wright  any  more,  for  my  mind  and  heart 
are  torn  by  different  passions  that  1 shall  go  mad.  Only  Greville, 


49 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


remember  your  promise  of  October.  Sir  William  says  you  never 
mentioned  to  him  about  coming  to  Naples  at  all.  But  you  know 
the  consequences  of  your  not  coming  for  me.  Endead,  my  dear 
Greville,  I live  but  in  the  hope  of  seeing  you,  and  if  you  do  not  come 
hear,  lett  what  will  be  the  consequence,  I will  come  to  England.  I 
have  had  a conversation  this  morning  with  Sir  William  that  has  made  me 
mad.  He  speaks — no,  I do  not  know  what  to  make  of  it.  But 
Greville,  my  dear  Greville,  wright  some  comfort  to  me.  But  only 
remember  you  will  never  be  loved  by  anybody  like 

Your  affectionate  and  sincere 

Emma.” 

P.S.-— Pray,  for  God’s  sake,  wright  to  me  and  come  to  me,  for 
Sir  William  shall  not  be  anything  to  me  but  your  friend.” 

To  this  passionate  and  pleading  letter,  appealing  to  his  sense  of 
honour,  as  well  as  to  his  affections,  Greville  made  no  reply.  He  had 
entered  into  his  bargain  with  Sir  William  in  a cold  and  calculating 
spirit,  selling  a woman’s  body  and  heart  with  as  little  compunction 
as  he  would  have  sold  one  of  his  Greek  statues,  and  with  precisely 
the  same  mercenary  motives,  and  he  was  not  to  be  moved  by  this 
or  the  fourteen  other  letters  which  reached  him  at  short  intervals 
from  his  despairing  victim.  As  the  weeks  went  by  and  she  received 
no  answer,  the  full  revelation  of  his  treachery  came  upon  her.  She 
knew  herself  to  be  abandoned.  He  had  lied  to  her  when  he  parted 
with  kisses  and  promises  to  rejoin  her  soon.  In  making  the 
arrangement  for  her  to  go  to  Italy  with  Sir  William  Hamilton,  he 
had  known  all  along  that  his  uncle  coveted  her  not  as  a guest  but 
as  a mistress.  He  had  passed  her  over  to  his  uncle  as  though  she 
were  no  better  than  a low  and  vicious  creature,  who  would  as  will- 
ingly live  with  one  man  as  another,  and  yet  he  had  loved  her  ! She 
could  be  sure  of  that.  The  memory  of  the  thousand  kind  words  he 
had  spoken  to  her,  of  the  years  when  she  had  lived  with  him  as  his 
wife  in  everything  but  name,  of  the  little  quarrels  she  had  had  with 


30 


A Biographical  Essay. 


him,  and  which  he  had  forgiven,  of  his  lectures  on  propriety  and  good 
behaviour,  which  she  had  tried  so  hard  to  model  herself  upon,  of  the 
quiet  domestic  happiness  they  had  had  together,  he  teaching,  and 
she  learning,  he  praising,  and  she  so  pleased  and  grateful  for  his 
praise,  came  back  to  her  vividly  and  ineffacably,  drowning  her  very 
passion  and  burning  indignation  in  a flood  of  grief.  She  loved  him  still. 
Base  and  treacherous  though  he  had  been,  he  was  the  husband  of  her 
body  and  soul,  and  she  would  pardon  him  everything,  and  give  him 
the  same  loyal  love,  if  he  would  only  take  her  back.  She  had  written 
in  anger,  perhaps  she  had  said  bitter  things  in  her  despair,  perhaps 
her  reproaches  had  been  too  hysterical  and  violent,  perhaps  her 
pleadings  had  not  been  humble  enough  or  passionate  enough  in 
those  series  of  letters — fourteen  in  all,  which  had  come  from  her  torn 
and  bleeding  heart.  Oh,  if  she  could  but  move  him  to  pity,  and 
awaken  in  him  some  of  those  old  kindly  sentiments  which  he  had 
sincerely  felt  towards  her.  Perhaps,  though  fourteen  letters  had 
failed,  the  fifteenth  would  work  the  miracle  of  turning  back  to  flesh 
and  blood  a heart  that  had  been  changed  to  stone.  So  once  more,  in 
J uly  of  the  same  year,  she  sat  down  with  blinding  tears  to  appeal  for 
the  last  time  to  her  “ ever  dearest  Greville,”  as  she  still  called  him. 
“ I am  now  only  writing,”  she  said,  “ to  beg  of  you  for  God’s  sake 
to  send  me  one  letter,  if  it  is  only  a farewell.  Sure,  I have  deserved 
this,  for  the  sake  of  the  love  you  once  had  for  me.  Think,  Greville, 
of  our  former  connexion,  and  don’t  despise  me.  I have  not  used 
you  ill  in  any  one  thing.  I have  been  from  you  going  for  six 
months,  and  you  have  wrote  one  letter  to  me— enstead  of  which  I 
have  sent  fourteen  to  you.  So  pray,  let  me  beg  of  you,  my  much- 
loved Greville,  only  one  line  from  your  dear,  dear  hands.  You 
don’t  know  how  thankful  I shall  be  for  it.  For  if  you  knew  the 
misery  I feel,  oh  ! your  heart  would  not  be  intirely  shut  up  against; 
for  I love  you  with  the  truest  affection.  Don’t  lett  anybody  sett 
you  against  me.  Some  of  your  friends— your  foes,  perhaps,  I don’t 


51 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


know  what  to  stile  them — have  long  wisht  me  ill.  But,  Greville, 
you  never  will  meet  with  anybody  that  has  a truer  affection  for  you 
than  I have,  and  I only  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  show  you  what 
I could  do  for  you.  As  soon  as  I know  your  determination  I shall 
take  my  own  measures.  If  I don’t  hear  from  you,  and  that  you  are 
coming,  according  to  your  promise,  I shall  be  in  England  at 
Christmas  at  furthest.  Don’t  be  unhappy  at  that ; I will  see  you 
once  more,  for  the  last  time.  I find  life  is  unsuportable  without 
you.  Oh ! my  heart  is  entirely  broke.  Then,  for  God’s  sake,  my 
ever  dear  Greville,  do  write  me  some  comfort.  I don’t  know  what 
to  do ; I am  now  in  that  state.  I am  incapable  of  anything.  I 
have  a language  master,  a singing  master,  music,  etc.,  but  what  is 
it  for  ? If  it  was  to  amuse  you  I should  be  happy.  But  Greville, 
what  will  it  avail  me  ? 1 am  poor,  helpless,  and  forlorn.  1 have 

lived  with  you  five  years,  and  you  have  sent  me  to  a strange  place, 
and  no  one  prospect  but  thinking  you  was  coming  to  me.  Enstead 
of  which  I was  told  to  live,  you  know  how,  with  Sir  William.  No, 
I respect  him,  but  no,  never  shall  he  peraps  live  with  me  for  a little 
while,  like  you,  and  send  me  to  England.  Then  what  am  I to  do  ? 
What  is  to  become  of  me  ? But  excuse  me,  my  heart  is  full.  I tell 
you,  give  me  one  guiney  a week  for  everything,  and  live  with  me, 
and  I will  be  contented.  But  no  more,  I will  trust  to  Providence, 
and  wherever  you  go,  God  bless  and  preserve  you,  and  may 
you  always  be  happy  ! ” 

This  letter  crossed  with  one  of  Greville’s,  and  Emma  received 
the  long  delayed  message  with  rapturous  delight,  envying  the  very 
wafer  with  which  he  had  sealed  it  by  the  moisture  of  his  lips. 
“She  would  give  two  worlds,  had  she  them,  to  kiss  those  lips  1” 
Thus  she  began  her  answer  with  words  of  tenderness  and  pretty 
sentiment,  to  the  man  who  had  been  her  lover,  who,  as  he 
read  them,  must  have  been  startled  at  the  gust  of  passion 
and  indignation  that  followed.  In  his  letter,  he  had  put  off  his 


V 


52 


LADY  HAMILTON  IN  MORNING  DRESS.  BY  GEO.  ROMNEY. 
From  the  Original  Painting. 

By  permission,  from  Messrs.  Agncw’s  New  Work  on  Romney. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


mask  altogether,  and,  in  plain  words,  had  urged  her  to  live  with 
his  uncle.  In  words  too  plain  to  be  fully  quoted,  she  scorned 
his  counsel,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  they  burnt  into  his  brain, 
shaking  him  out  of  that  self-complacency  beneath  which  his 
better  nature  was  stifled. 

“ As  to  what  you  write  to  me  to  oblidge  Sir  William,  I will 
not  answer  you.  For  oh,  if  you  knew  what  pain  I feel  in  reading 
those  lines.  You  advise  me  to  . . . Nothing  can  express  my 
rage ! I am  all  madness  ! Greville  to  advise  me  ! — you  that  used 
to  envy  my  smiles ! Now  with  cool  indifference  to  advise  me 
thus.  Oh  that,  worst  of  all  ! But  I will  not,  no,  I will  not  rage. 
If  I was  with  you,  I would  murder  you,  and  myself  too.  Nothing 
shall  ever  do  for  me  but  going  home  to  you.  If  that  is  not  to 
be,  I will  except  nothing.  I will  go  to  London,  their  go  into 
every  excess  of  vice  tell  I dye.  My  fate  is  a warning  to  young 
whomen  never  to  be  two  good.  For  now  you  have  made  me 
love  you,  you  have  made  me  good ; you  have  abandoned  me,  and 
some  violent  end  shall  finish  our  connexion,  if  it  is  to  finish. 

But  oh,  Greville,  you  cannot,  you  must  not  give  me  up.  You 

have  not  the  heart  to  do  it.  You  love  me,  I am  sure ; and  I am 
willing  to  do  everything  in  my  power — and  what  will  you  have 

more  ? and  I only  say  this  for  the  last  time.  I will  neither  beg 

nor  pray.  Do  as  you  like.” 

Then  in  a postcript  she  wrote  a threat  which  may  have  moved 
Greville  more  than  all  her  pleading ; for  if  she  fulfilled  it,  one 
part  of  his  scheme— that  he  should  be  the  sole  heir  to  Sir  William 
Hamilton’s  fortune — might  be  seriously  endangered. 

“ It  is  not  your  interest  to  disoblige  me,”  she  wrote,  “ for  you 
don’t  know  the  power  I have  hear.  Only  I will  never  be  his 
mistress.  If  you  affront  me , I will  make  him  marry  me." 

That  postcript  must  have  caused  the  ordinarily  calm  brow  of 
Mr.  Charles  Greville  to  pucker  with  an  anxious  wrinkle.  As  a 


53 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton 


man  of  the  world,  and  with  much  experience  of  women’s  hearts, 
he  no  doubt  calculated  that  he  had  only  to  bide  his  time,  and 
Emma  would  be  forced  by  the  irresistible  power  of  circumstance 
to  accept  the  protection  of  Sir  William  Hamilton.  Though  now, 
in  the  first  throes  of  her  passionate  revolt  against  her  abandonment, 
she  vowed  that  she  would  embrace  poverty  and  misery  rather 
than  be  anything  more  than  a friend  to  her  amorous  Ambassador, 
there  would  come  the  inevitable  reaction,  when  Greville’s  absolute 
decision  would  become  plain  to  her,  and  unless  she  had  the  courage 
of  martyrdom,  which  he  much  doubted,  she  would  be  bound  in  the 
end  to  succumb  to  the  temptations  of  ease  and  comfort,  and  all  the 
glamour  of  social  success,  under  the  patronage  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton.  That  was  a result  upon  which  he  could  have  no  doubt, 
unless  all  his  experience  had  been  for  nothing.  But  what  about 
her  threat  of  marriage  ? In  his  heart  he  may  have  known  that  that 
also  was  not  the  least  improbable  of  things,  for  Emma  had 
awakened  at  last  to  the  knowledge  of  her  power.  She  knew  now 
that  her  beauty  could  cast  a spell  over  men,  and  that  if  she  used  her 
rare  charms  for  her  own  ends,  she  might  be  the  queen  instead 
of  the  beggar-maid,  and  rule  rather  than  obey. 

If  in  Greville’s  study  of  this  problem  his  logic  led  him  to  that 
solution,  he  was  not  in  error.  Before  the  year  was  out  in  which 
she  had  fiercely  protested  that  “ Sir  William  shall  not  be  anything 
to  me  but  your  friend,”  Emma  was  the  recognised  mistress  of  the 
British  Ambassador,  and  she  looked  forward  with  a quiet  confidence 
to  the  day  when  he  would  make  her  his  wife.  She  had  turned  down 
one  more  page  in  her  life,  and  had  begun  a new  chapter  in  which 
Greville  had  no  part. 


54 


A Biographical  Essay. 


Chapter  IV. 


SIR  WILLIAM  HAMILTON  was  not  a man  of  heroic  cast.  In  his 
younger  days  he  had  been  as  easy  in  his  morals  as  a gentleman 
of  the  Eighteenth  Century  might  be  without  shocking  the 
prejudices  of  his  age,  and  at  fifty-seven  he  was  still  a man  of 
gallantry,  not  yet  past  the  emotion  of  “ the  grand  passion.”  But  in 
many  ways  his  character  was  not  unadmirable.  He  was  a man  of 
kindly  sentiment,  with  a considerable  strain  of  generosity.  Indeed, 
according  to  the  code  of  his  time,  he  had  a nice  sense  of  honour  as 
regards  his  public  duties,  faithfully  serving  the  interests  of  his 
country  as  Ambassador  to  the  Court  of  Naples  ; and,  apart  from 
the  scandalous  way  in  which  he  had  brought  Emma  Hart  to  Italy 
under  false  pretences — the  blame  of  which  lies  much  more  heavily 
upon  Greville  than  upon  himself — it  must  be  admitted  that  in  his 
private  relations  with  her  he  showed  more  than  a touch  of  chivalry 
and  unselfishness.  While  she  still  held  out  against  his  proposals,  he 
offered  to  settle  £100  a year  upon  her  for  life,  whether  she  decided 
to  leave  him,  or  live  with  him,  and  as  soon  as  she  yielded  {to  his 
persuasions,  he  did  everything  in  his  power  to  secure  her  happiness 
and  comfort.  There  is  no  disguising  that  he  did  so  at  considerable 
risk  to  himself.  In  bringing  forward  the  beautiful  Emma  in  the 
most  prominent  and  public  way  as  the  mistress  of  his  heart  and 
household,  he  might,  and  did  offend  an  influential  section  of 
the  English  colony  in  Sicily,  who,  for  a time  at  least,  did  their 
best  to  obtain  his  recall  from  the  position  of  Ambassador.  The 
Queen  of  Naples,  although  reigning  over  a Court  not  noted  for  its 
scrupulous  morality,  refused  to  give  entree  to  a lady  who  had  no 


55 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


legitimate  right  to  her  Royal  favour,  and  this  in  itself  created  an 
awkward  and  difficult  situation  for  Sir  William  Hamilton.  It  is 
certainly  a compliment  to  his  courage,  as  well  as  to  his  tact,  that  he 
was  able  to  protect  Emma  from  insult,  and  to  gain  for  her,  so 
speedily,  a high  position  in  Neapolitan  society,  in  spite  of  these 
difficulties  and  hostilities.  But,  having  said  this,  one  must 
acknowledge  that  it  was  Emma  herself  who  carried  off  the 
honours  of  his  social  campaign,  and  it  was  due  chiefly  to  her 
extraordinary  charm  of  beauty  and  character  that  she  was  not 
only  tolerated,  but  in  time  idolized  by  the  Neapolitans  and  English 
alike.  Her  amazing  loveliness — for  never  had  her  beauty  been 
more  perfect  than  now — disarmed  and  captivated  the  men.  That 
was  but  natural,  and  they  would  have  given  her  their  easy  homage 
had  she  been  a very  scarlet  woman.  But  what  was  more  remark- 
able, she  gradually  bewitched  the  women  by  her  unfailing  good 
nature,  simplicity,  and  unaffectedness.  They,  and  the  men  too, 
soon  recognised  that  she  was  not  only  a beautiful  woman,  but 
whatever  might  be  her  legal  or  illegal  position  regarding  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  that  she  was  a really  good  woman.  If  she  had 
been  very  frail  as  well  as  very  fair,  there  is  no  knowing  what  might 
have  happened  at  a Court  where  the  princes  and  nobles  were  all 
too  inflammable  at  the  sight  of  a pretty  face.  But  “ Mrs.  Hart,” 
as  she  was  called,  was  the  very  model  of  propriety  and  discretion. 
Within  a few  weeks  of  her  landing  she  had  a crowd  of  would-be 
lovers  sighing  around  her,  and  whispering  amorous  conceits.  A 
Prince  followed  her  about  wherever  she  might  go,  brought  her 
flowers,  carried  her  shawl,  took  her  to  the  bath-house  and  waited 
till  she  pleased  to  come  away,  like  a faithful  watch-dog  ; bowed  low 
over  her  hands,  and  implored  her  with  his  eyes,  and  generally 
behaved  like  an  ecstatic  Romeo.  And  Mrs.  Hart  suffered  him 
gladly,  liking  love  and  homage,  but  she  let  him  know  very  clearly 
and  very  decisively  that  she  had  only  one  heart,  and  that  was  for 


56 


A Biographical  Essay. 


Sir  William  Hamilton.  The  Neapolitan  nobles,  she  said,  were  “ as 
proud  as  the  devil.  But  she  humbled  them.”  One,  more  audacious 
in  his  flattery,  asked  how  many  lovers  she  had  in  Naples,  but  this 
was  going  a little  too  far,  so  she  “ pulled  her  lip  at  him,”  and  said, 
“ Do  you  take  me  to  be  an  Italian  woman  who  has  four  or  five 
different  men  to  attend  her  ? Sir,  I am  English.  I have  one 
cavalier-servant,  and  I have  brought  him  with  me  ” — pointing  to 
Sir  William.  That  reduced  the  amorous  nobleman  to  silence,  and 
after  this  rebuke  he  could  only  murmur  that  she  was  “ una  donna 
rara." 

The  King  of  Naples  himself  was  soon  fascinated  by  her  beauty, 
and  although  the  Queen  could  not  receive  her  formally  at  Court, 
His  Majesty  made  up  for  this  social  disadvantage  by  flattering 
attentions  whenever  he  met  her  in  Sir  William’s  company.  On 
one  occasion  when  she  was  in  a boat,  the  King  came  sailing  past 
with  an  orchestra  on  board  his  little  vessel,  and  perceiving  the 
Ambassador’s  lady,  ordered  his  men  to  go  close  to  her,  and  to  play 
their  music.  “ He  took  off  his  hatt,  and  sett  with  his  hatt  on  his 
knees  all  the  while,  and  when  he  was  going  to  land  he  made  his 
bow,  and  said  it  was  a sin  he  could  not  speak  English.  But  I have 
him  in  my  train  every  night  at  the  villa  or  opera.” 

It  was  not  only  the  nobility  who  worshipped  at  the  feet  of  Emma; 
the  peasants  and  the  servants  were  bewitched  by  her.  In  her 
simple  white  dress,  with  a blue  sash,  she  seemed  to  them 
miraculously  like  the  Madonna  as  she  was  painted  in  their 
churches,  and  at  a little  Italian  village,  through  which  Emma 
passed  on  a pleasure  trip  with  Sir  William,  the  country  people  fell 
down  on  their  knees  before  her,  asking  favours  from  her  in  the 
name  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  whose  likeness  the  good  God  had 
made  her.  Even  the  priests  were  struck  with  this  similitude,  and 
when  two  of  them  came  to  visit  Sir  William,  he  made  her  put 
a shawl  over  her  head  and  pose  in  an  attitude  of  religious  adoration. 


57 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


The  priests  were  exceedingly  moved — one  of  them,  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  said  “ God  had  sent  her  for  a purpose.”  Emma  herself 
was  much  touched  by  a visit  she  paid  to  a convent  of  sixty  nuns. 
They  received  her  with  the  most  charming  kindness  and  reverence, 
as  if  Emma  were  some  beautiful  saint  who  had  come  to  shed 
her  radiance  on  their  house.  The  Lady  Superior  was  quite  a 
young  woman,  only  twenty-nine  years  of  age,  and  Emma  was 
“quite  charmed”  with  Beatrice  Acquaviva,  as  she  was  called.  Sir 
William  was  away  at  the  time,  so  Emma  wrote  to  him  a pretty 
description  of  the  fair  nun,  and  of  the  scene  at  the  convent. 

“She  took  the  veil  at  twenty,”  she  says  in  this  letter,  “and 
does  not  repent  to  this  day.  Though,  if  I am  a judge  of  physiog- 
omy,  her  eyes  does  not  look  like  the  eyes  of  a nun.  They  are 
always  laughing,  and  something  in  them  vastly  alluring,  and  I 
wonder  the  men  of  Naples  would  suffer  their  only  pretty  whoman, 
who  is  really  pretty,  to  be  shut  in  a convent.  But  it  is  like  the 
mean-spirited,  ill  taste  of  the  Neapolitans  . . . She  kissed  my  lips, 
cheeks,  and  forehead,  and  every  moment  exclaimed  “ charming  fine 
creature,”  admired  my  dress,  said  I looked  like  an  angel,  for  I was 
in  clear  wite  dimity,  and  a blue  sash.  She  admired  my  hat  and  fine 
hair,  and  she  said  she  had  heard  I was  good  to  the  poor,  and 
generous,  and  noble-minded.  1 Now,’  she  says,  ‘ it  would  be  worth 
wile  to  live  for  such  a one  as  you.  Your  good  heart  would  melt  at 
any  trouble  that  befel  one,  and  partake  of  one’s  grief,  or  be 
equaly  pleased  at  one’s  good  fortune.  But  I never  met  with  a 
friend  yet,  or  ever  I saw  a person  I could  love,  tell  now,  and  you 
shall  have  proof  of  my  love.’  In  short,  I sat  and  listened  to  her, 
and  the  tears  stood  in  my  eyes  ; I don’t  know  why.  I thought 
what  a charming  wife  she  would  have  made.  What  a mother  of  a 
family ; what  a friend,  and  the  first  good  and  amiable  whoman 
I have  seen  since  I came  to  Naples,  for  to  be  lost  to  the  world — 
how  cruel ! ” Beatrice  Acquaviva  thought  she  could  read  the  beauty 


58 


A Biographical  Essay. 


of  Emma’s  heart  in  her  countenance  and  complexion,  and  compared 
he  r figure  and  features  with  the  marble  statues  she  saw  when 
she  was  in  the  world. 

“ I think  she  flatered  me  up,”  said  Emma  naively,  “ but  I was 
pleased.” 

Sir  William  Hamilton  was  more  than  loyal  to  his  promise  to 
give  his  mistress  the  best  training  for  her  voice  that  Italy  could 
offer,  and  what  with  singing  and  other  lessons,  sitting  as  a model 
to  the  artists  engaged  by  Sir  William,  and  the  daily  round  of  social 
gaieties,  Emma’s  time  was  fully  occupied.  The  Ambassador’s 
country  house  at  Caserta,  which  he  now  had  done  up  in  the  most 
elegant  way  for  her  pleasure  and  comfort,  was  thronged  with 
painters  and  professors,  sculptors  and  enamellers,  who  came  in 
the  service  of  the  famous  beauty.  Sir  William  had  fitted  up  a 
special  painting  room,  where  Emma  posed  for  at  least  two  hours 
each  day,  and  this  studio  was  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the 
artists,  who  came  flocking  in  from  Rome  to  study  from  a living 
form  as  perfect  as  any  piece  of  classical  sculpture.  By  August 
of  1787,  Sir  William  already  possessed  eleven  portraits  of  her, 
but  he  was  never  satisfied,  and  always  wanted  more.  At  the 
same  time,  her  head  was  being  cut  in  stone  for  the  cameo  of 
a ring,  and  she  was  being  modelled  in  ware  and  clay.  From  the 
studio  she  went  to  the  music  room,  where  Galvia,  the  great 
master,  was  waiting  to  flatter,  as  well  as  to  train  her  voice. 
Afterwards  she  practised  at  the  pianoforte  with  another  dis- 
tinguished professor,  then  read  Italian  with  a reading  master, 
and  studied  drawing,  which  she  found  “ as  easy  as  A.B.C.”  In 
the  evening,  Sir  William  Hamilton  gave  select  parties  at  which 
Emma  presided  as  a kind  of  Queen  of  Beauty,  flattered,  praised 
and  applauded  with  as  much  enthusiasm  and  admiration  as  if 
she  were  really  a divinity  who  had  come  among  the  mortals. 
Sir  William  only  invited  those  people  whom  he  could  trust  to 


59 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


behave  with  respect  to  his  household  goddess,  and  no  one  received 
a second  invitation,  of  whatever  rank  he  or  she  might  be,  if 
“ Signora  Hart”  had  any  reason  to  complain  of  incivility.  When 
the  Ambassador  left  her  for  some  weeks,  while  he  went  on  a 
sporting  expedition  with  the  King  of  Naples,  Emma  kept  open 
house  in  exactly  the  same  way  as  when  he  was  with  her,  and  with 
his  consent  and  wish  extended  her  hospitality  to  all  his  English 
and  Neapolitan  friends  with  as  much  freedom  and  authority  as  if 
she  were  his  wife  as  well  as  his  mistress. 

The  Italian  people,  indeed,  did  not  trouble  themselves  much,  if  at 
all,  about  so  fine  a distinction.  The  marriage  bond  has  always  been 
of  a looser  character  in  Italy  than  in  our  country.  A legal  or 
religious  ceremony  seems  to  them  rather  the  private  concern  of  a 
man  and  woman  than  anything  to  do  with  Society,  and  if  two  people 
live  together  with  every  sign  of  affection  and  loyalty  they  are 
generally  regarded  as  models  of  propriety.  Even  the  Church  would 
not  frown  very  severely  on  such  a union,  and  Emma  Hart  numbered 
several  distinguished  clerics  among  her  friends.  One,  a charming 
and  brilliant  Abbe,  was  never  tired  of  telling  his  friends  “ how 
beautifully  and  elegantly  behaved  in  manners  and  conversation” 
was  their  Ambassador’s  lady.  But  the  English  residents  and 
visitors  had  also  put  their  prejudices  on  one  side  when  they 
saw  how  perfectly  decorous  “Mrs.  Hart”  was  in  her  behaviour, 
and  with  what  an  excellent  and  charming  dignity  she  presided 
over  her  salon.  Emma  tells  Sir  William  in  one  of  her  letters 
how  an  English  friend  had  confessed  that  “ when  he  first  came 
in  I frightened  him  with  a majesty  and  Juno  look  that  I receeved 
him  with.  Now  he  says  that  whent  of  on  being  more  acquainted, 
and  I enchanted  him  with  my  politeness  and  the  manner  in 
which  I did  the  honours.”  This  same  gentleman,  a certain 
Mr.  Hart,  was  also  enchanted  with  Emma’s  voice,  with  which 
she  entertained  her  company.  “ He  said  it  was  the  most  extra- 


60 


LADY  HAMILTON!  READING  THE  GAZETTE.  BY  GEO.  ROMNEY 
From  the  original  painting. 

By  permission,  from  Messrs.  Agnew's  new  work  on  Romney. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


ordinary  thing  he  ever  knew.”  That,  perhaps,  was  a somewhat 
doubtful  compliment.  “ But  what  struck  him  most  was  holding  on 
the  notes,  and  going  from  the  high  to  the  low  notes  so  very  neat.” 
After  this  visit  “ he  went  awhay  with  his  head  turned.” 

Upon  Sir  William’s  return  to  Caserta  he  gave  a diplomatic 
dinner,  at  which  Emma  scored  a great  triumph.  There  were  sixty 
guests  present,  among  whom  was  “ the  Banti,”  the  prima  donna  of 
the  opera,  who  was  to  assist  at  the  concert  arranged  by  Emma  for 
the  entertainment  of  all  these  distinguished  people.  After  the  first 
quartette  the  hostess  was  to  sing  the  first  song.  At  first  she  was 
very  nervous,  for  “the  Banti”  is  a famous  singer,  and  she  placed 
herself  close  to  her.  “ But  when  I began  all  fear  went  awhay,  and  I 
sung  so  well  that  she  cried  out  ‘ Just  God,  what  a voice  ! I would 
give  a great  deal  for  your  voice.’  In  short,  I met  with  such  aplause 
that  it  almost  turned  my  head.  Banti  sung  after  me,  and,  I assure 
you,  everybody  said  I sung  in  a finer  style  than  her.  Poor  Sir 
William  was  so  enraptured  with  me  ! For  he  was  afraid  I should 
have  been  in  a great  fright,  and  it  was  of  consequence  that  evening, 
for  he  wanted  to  shew  me  of  to  some  Dutch  officers  that  were 
there,  that  is  with  a sixty-four  gun  and  frigate.” 

Upon  the  following  day  these  officers  gave  a dinner  on  board  to 
Sir  William  and  Emma,  giving  them  a royal  reception  by  manning 
the  yards,  dressing  the  ships  and  firing  a salute  of  twenty  guns. 
Emma  presided  at  the  table  as  “ mistress  of  the  feast,  drest  all  in 
virgin  white,  and  my  hair,  all  in  ringlets,  reaching  almost  to  my 
feet.”  The  gallant  sailors  were  so  enamoured  of  their  guest  that 
they  would  hardly  let  Sir  William  carry  her  away,  and,  at  the  last 
moment,  would  have  another  bottle  to  drink  to  “ the  lovliest  woman 
in  the  world.”  In  the  evening  they  accompanied  the  Ambassador 
and  his  lady  to  the  opera,  where  it  was  gala  night  in  honour  of  the 
Spanish  King’s  birthday.  “ I had  the  finest  dress  made  up  on 
purpose,”  writes  Emma,  “ as  I had  a box  near  the  King  and  Queen. 


61 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


My  gown  was  purple  satin,  with  white  satin  petticoat,  trimmed  with 
crape  and  spangles.  My  cap  lovely,  from  Paris,  all  white  feathers.” 
The  Commodore  of  the  Dutch  frigate  rode  in  Sir  William’s  carriage, 
“ and  the  officers  came  next,  and  attended  my  box  all  the  time,  and 
behaved  to  me  as  tho’  I was  a queen.” 

These  social  successes,  gratifying  as  they  were,  hardly  equalled 
the  triumphs  which  Emma  achieved  when  she  went  on  a tour  with 
Sir  William  Hamilton  and  a gay  party  to  the  “heel  of  the  Italian 
boot.”  At  all  the  towns  in  which  she  stayed  she  was  received 
with  the  flattering  homage  of  the  Italian  nobility,  who  were 
completely  subjugated  by  her  beauty  and  talents.  Princes  of  the 
Royal  blood  were  proud  to  converse  with  her,  and  grandes  dames, 
like  the  Countess  Mahoney,  congratulated  the  Ambassador  on  the 
possession  of  such  a good  and  beautiful  woman.  Afterwards  she  was 
even  more  deeply  gratified  by  the  warm  friendship  shown  to  her  by 
two  great  ladies  from  England,  whose  patronage  did  much  to 
break  down  any  prejudice  against  her  still  existing  in  the  minds 
of  English  residents  and  visitors.  These  were  Lady  Elcho  and 
the  Duchess  of  Argyll,  the  latter  famous  in  her  youth  as  “ the 
beautiful  Miss  Gunning.”  As  the  years  passed,  and  it  was  seen 
that  Sir  William  Hamilton  still  had  the  utmost  affection  for  the 
mistress  of  his  household,  never  being  quite  happy  if  he  was  out 
of  her  presence,  and  rejoicing  openly  in  her  great  beauty,  her 
many  talents,  and  her  intellectual  powers,  there  were  many  people 
who  believed  that  Emma  was  really  his  wife,  and  that  a secret 
marriage  had  taken  place  at  an  early  date  in  their  relationship. 
It  was  convenient  for  many  of  the  English  ladies  who  visited 
Naples  to  spread  these  rumours,  and  pretend  to  believe  them, 
even  if  they  did  not  do  so  with  sincerity.  It  is  quite  an  English 
characteristic  to  assume  that  all  is  nice  and  proper  if  there  are 
any  advantages  to  be  gained  from  such  assumption,  and  in  this 
case  the  hospitality  of  an  Ambassador,  and  the  piquant  pleasure 


62 


A Biographical  Essay. 


of  being  acquainted  with  so  famous  a beauty,  converted  many 
scandal-mongers  to  charity.  Some  of  Sir  William  Hamilton’s  most 
intimate  friends  were  bold  enough  to  question  him  on  the  subject ; 
and  although  he  denied  the  rumours  of  marriage,  he  announced 
his  intention  of  making  Emma  his  wife  as  soon  as  he  could  gain 
the  consent  of  the  English  king.  There  is  no  reason  to  doubt 
that  he  had  a very  sincere  love  and  respect  for  his  mistress, 
and,  indeed,  to  the  end  of  his  life,  his  admiration  for  her  never 
waned.  And,  although  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  Emma  loved 
him  with  the  same  romantic  passion  which  she  had  felt  for 
Greville,  one  may  not  disbelieve  her  own  assurances  that  Sir 
William’s  generosity  and  tenderness  towards  her  had  inspired 
her  with  the  warmest  sense  of  gratitude  and  affection.  Her 
letters  to  him,  whenever  he  was  away  from  her  side,  which  was 
not  often,  were  full  of  endearing  words,  and  wifely  solicitude  for 
his  health  and  comfort.  When  he  fell  ill  for  a time  she  nursed 
him  with  the  utmost  devotion,  and  it  was  not,  perhaps,  an 
exaggeration  for  her  friends  to  say  that  she  had  saved  his  life. 
For  Greville  she  always  cherished  a tender  sentiment  that  the 
memory  of  his  treachery  could  not  efface,  and  she  corresponded 
with  him  frequently,  keeping  him  well  posted  with  the  progress 
of  her  career.  But  in  these  letters  there  was  not,  after  she 
had  entered  the  household  of  the  British  Ambassador,  a word 
that  showed  disloyalty  to  Sir  William,  or  an  expression  that 
Greville  could  have  interpreted  as  an  avowal  of  his  old  dominion 
over  her.  With  great  tact  and  womanly  restraint  she  placed 
him  on  the  footing  of  an  old  friend,  who  had  also  the  claim  of 
kinship  with  her  protector  ; but  even  the  worst  enemy  of  the 
woman  who  became  Lady  Hamilton  could  never  accuse  her  of 
any  impropriety  in  her  tone  towards  Sir  William’s  nephew. 

It  was  in  1791  that  the  Ambassador  left  Italy  for  a holiday,  and 
set  out  for  London  with  his  beloved  Emma.  He  made  no  secret 


63 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


of  the  fact  that  the  chief  object  of  his  journey  was  to  place  her  in 
the  full  position  of  wifehood  by  a legal  and  religious  ceremony  of 
marriage  in  England.  To  Emma  these  weeks  must  have  been  a 
time  of  happiest  exultation.  At  last  the  ambition  of  her  life  was  to 
be  realised.  In  the  old-fashioned  phrase  of  the  homely  people  from 
whom  she  had  sprung,  she  was  to  be  made  “ an  honest  woman.” 
Never  again  would  the  dread  horror  of  abandonment  besiege  her 
soul.  She  was  to  have  security  of  tenure  in  her  love,  and  at  the 
Court  of  Naples  she  would  be  able  to  reign  in  Society  not  only  as 
the  Queen  of  Beauty,  but  as  the  honoured  wife  of  the  British 
Ambassador.  In  spite  of  her  social  successes  she  had  not  yet 
obtained  the  personal  friendship  of  the  Queen  of  Naples,  and  there 
were  still  ladies  of  the  Court  who  followed  the  lead  of  their 
mistress,  and  held  aloof.  Those  disadvantages  would  now  be 
removed,  and  Emma  was  justified  in  dreaming  of  a brilliant  future 
in  which  her  influence  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Two  Sicilies  would  be 
unbounded.  In  London,  with  all  the  excitement  of  receiving 
presents  and  purchasing  her  wedding  dress,  Emma  might  have  been 
pardoned  if  she  had  given  but  little  thought  to  the  old  friends 
of  her  days  of  poverty.  Perhaps,  even,  one  could  have  under- 
stood her  feelings  if  she  had  deliberately  broken  with  every, 
thing  and  everyone  that  formed  a connection  with  the  time 
when  she  was  a humble  and  unclassed  girl.  But  this  was  not 
the  case.  One  of  her  first  pleasures  was  to  seek  out  her  old 
admirer  and  devoted  friend,  George  Romney,  who  for  five  years 
had  cherished  her  memory,  and  pined  for  her  presence.  At 
this  time  he  had  fallen  into  a melancholy  and  morbid  condition. 
Ill-health  and  disappointment  had  almost  ruined  his  inspiration,  and 
he  was  the  victim  of  a settled  gloom.  But  when  Emma  came  to 
him  with  Sir  William,  bright  and  beautiful  as  ever,  overflowing  with 
tenderness  and  sympathy,  the  sun  shone  in  the  heavens  again,  and 
the  painter  was  filled  with  a new  sense  of  life  and  inspiration.  She 


64 


A Biographical  Essay. 


told  him  the  news  of  her  approaching  marriage  with  tremulous 
emotion  and  tears  in  her  eyes,  contrasting  the  difference  in  her 
position  to  that  in  which  she  had  last  been  to  Romney’s  rooms ; and 
then  she  told  him  how  much  joy  it  would  give  her  to  sit  as  his 
model  whenever  she  could  spare  the  time  from  her  numerous 
engagements,  just  in  the  same  old  way. 

Romney  sat  down  to  tell  all  this  delightful  story  to  his  friend 
Hayley.  “ At  present,”  he  said,  “ and  the  greatest  part  of  the 
summer,  I shall  be  engaged  in  painting  pictures  from  the  divine 
lady.  I cannot  give  her  any  other  epithet,  for  I think  her  superior 
to  all  womankind.  I have  two  pictures  to  paint  of  her  for  the 
Prince  of  Wales.  She  says  she  must  see  you  before  she  leaves 
England,  which  will  be  in  the  beginning  of  September.  She  asked 
me  if  you  would  not  write  my  life — I told  her  you  had  begun  it, — 
then  she  said  she  hoped  you  would  have  much  to  say  of  her  in  the 
life,  as  she  prided  herself  in  being  my  model.  So  you  see  I must  be 
in  London  till  the  time  when  she  leaves  town.” 

About  a fortnight  later  Romney  wrote  again  to  Hayley : 

“ I dedicate  my  time  to  this  charming  lady ; there  is  a prospect 
of  her  leaving  town  with  Sir  William  for  two  or  three  weeks.  They 
are  very  much  hurried  at  present,  and  everything  is  going  on  for 
their  speedy  marriage,  and  ail  the  world  following  her,  and  talking 
of  her,  so  that  if  she  had  not  more  good  sense  her  brain  must 
be  turned. 

“ The  pictures  I have  begun  are  Joan  of  Arc,  a Magdalen,  and  a 
Bacchante  for  the  Prince  of  Wales  ; and  another  I am  to  begin  as  a 
companion  to  the  Bacchante.  I am  also  to  paint  a picture  of 
Constance  for  the  Shakespeare  Gallery.” 

In  poor  Romney’s  nervous  condition  he  fancied  that  Emma  had 
been  cold  to  him  before  setting  out  on  a visit  to  the  country  house 
of  one  of  Sir  William’s  relatives,  and  he  wrote  Hayley  a miserable 
letter  on  the  subject.  Hayley,  who  seems  to  have  been  singularly 


65 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


lacking  in  discretion,  and  not  without  some  justice,  has  been  called 
Romney’s  evil  genius,  commiserated  with  his  friend  in  an  absurd 
poem,  which  only  deepened  the  gloom  of  the  neurotic  painter. 
Fortunately  it  was  not  of  long  duration,  for  Emma  appeared  at  his 
studio  a few  days  later,  and  treated  him  with  so  much  affection  as 
an  old  and  revered  friend,  and  was  so  eager  to  resume  her  sittings, 
that  there  was  no  possible  excuse  for  the  idea  of  any  “ coldness.” 

“ When  she  arrived  to  sit  she  seemed  more  friendly  than  she 
had  been,  and  I began  a picture  of  her  as  a present  to  her 
mother.  I was  very  successful  with  it,  for  it  is  thought  the 
most  beautiful  head  I have  painted  over  her  yet.”  With  these 
words  and  others,  showing  Emma’s  cordiality  to  him,  Romney 
hastened  to  show  Hayley  that  his  poem  need  not  have  been 
written  after  all. 

So  Emma  at  last  became  Lady  Hamilton,  as  she  had  threatened 
Greville  she  would,  when  he  abandoned  her  in  what  now  seemed 
the  distant  past.  She  was  radiantly  happy,  and  London  Society 
was  excited  and  enchanted  by  the  beauty  and  charm,  the  singing 
and  acting,  of  the  British  Ambassador’s  wife.  The  director  of 
the  opera  offered  her  two  thousand  pounds  a year,  with  a share 
in  the  profits,  if  she  would  engage  with  him,  but  Sir  William 
made  it  the  opportunity  for  a bon  mot , and  said,  with  a pleasant 
smile,  that  he  had  engaged  her  for  life.  One  little  trouble  alone 
broke  the  happiness  of  this  time  in  London.  Queen  Charlotte, 
who  had  heard  many  rumours  about  her  past  life,  refused  to 
receive  her  at  Court.  But  otherwise,  London  had  made  much 
fuss  of  her,  and  she  left  for  Italy  again  with  her  husband,  with 
the  good  wishes  and  congratulations  of  all  their  friends.  Her 
reception  in  Naples  as  the  wife  of  the  Ambassador,  and  her  own 
state  of  mind,  are  best  described  in  her  own  words  as  she  wrote 
them  to  Romney  on  one  of  the  last  days  of  the  year  1791. 

“ My  dear  friend,”  she  said,  “ I have  the  pleasure  to  inform 


66 


A Biographical  Essay. 


you  that  we  arrived  safe  at  Naples.  I have  been  receved  with 
open  arms  by  all  the  Neapolitans  of  both  sexes,  by  all  the 
foreigners  of  every  distinction.  I have  been  presented  to  the 
Queen  of  Naples  by  her  own  desire.  She  has  shown  me  all 
sorts  of  kind  and  affectionate  attentions.  In  short,  I am  the 
happiest  woman  in  the  world.  Sir  William  is  fonder  of  me  every 
day,  and  I hope  he  will  have  no  cause  to  repent  what  he  has 
done,  for  I feel  so  grateful  to  him,  that  I think  I shall  never 
be  able  to  make  him  amends  for  his  goodness  to  me.  But  why 
do  I tell  you  this  ? You  know  me  enough.  You  was  the  first 
dear  friend  I opened  my  heart  to.  You  ought  to  know  me,  for 
you  have  seen  and  discoursed  with  me  in  my  poorer  days.  You 
have  known  me  in  my  poverty  and  prosperity,  and  I had  no 
occasion  to  have  liv’d  for  years  in  poverty  and  distress  if  I 
had  not  felt  something  of  virtue  in  my  mind.  O,  my  dear  friend, 
for  a time  I own,  through  distress,  my  virtue  was  vanquish’d, 
but  my  sense  of  virtue  was  not  overcome.  How  gratefull  now 
then  do  I feel  to  my  dear,  dear  husband,  that  as  restored 
peace  to  my  mind,  that  as  given  me  honor,  rank,  and  what  is 
more,  innocence  and  happiness.  Rejoice  with  me,  my  dear  sir, 
my  friend,  my  more  than  father.  Believe  me,  I am  still  that 
same  Emma  you  knew  me.  If  I could  for  a moment  forget  what 
I was,  I ought  to  suffer.” 

Once  more  a new  chapter  in  Emma’s  life  had  begun,  and,  as 
Lady  Hamilton  and  the  friend  of  Queen  Caroline  of  Naples,  she 
reached  a position  that  must  have  seemed  a whole  lifetime 
removed  from  the  days  when  she  was  the  poor  little  nursery- 
maid of  Dr.  Budd  in  the  City  of  London. 


67 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Chapter  V. 

WHEN  Emma  returned  to  Naples  as  Lady  Hamilton,  she 
attained  a position  not  only  of  the  highest  social 
influence,  but  also,  as  time  went  on,  one  of  considerable 
political  importance.  Queen  Maria  Caroline,  who  had  formerly 
held  aloof  from  the  Ambassador’s  mistress,  now  gave  to  the 
Ambassador’s  wife  her  cordial  friendship,  and  later  on  her  intimate 
confidence.  There  were  reasons,  apart  from  Emma’s  fascination, 
why  the  Queen  of  the  Two  Sicilies  should  be  gracious  to  Lady 
Hamilton.  The  Revolution  in  France  had  burst  forth  in  a tempest 
of  human  passion,  before  which  the  old  regime  of  feudal  tyranny 
had  been  shattered,  and  all  the  old  fetters  of  social  caste  and  creed 
had  been  broken  by  the  new  spirit  of  democracy.  Queen  Maria’s 
sister,  the  ill-fated  Marie  Antoinette,  and  her  brother-in-law,  King 
Louis  XVI.,  were  made  the  scapegoats  of  a system  which  was  not 
of  their  fashioning,  and  on  the  scaffold  paid  with  their  own  blood 
the  penalty  of  their  predecessors’  immorality  and  cruelty.  The 
falling  of  their  heads  into  the  basket  of  the  guillotine,  a basket 
loaded  daily  with  a bloody  harvesting  of  fair  and  noble  fruit, 
resounded  over  Europe,  and  the  thrones  of  other  nations  trembled 
with  the  ominous  warning  of  a social  earthquake.  The  spirit  of 
Democracy,  a spirit  of  hope  and  liberty  to  those  who  had  been 
the  slaves  of  feudalism,  a hydra-headed,  bloodthirsty,  and  ferocious 
monster  to  those  who  had  been  born  in  pride  and  bred  in  luxury, 
aroused  the  latent  passions  of  humanity,  not  in  France  alone,  but 
in  many  countries  of  Europe  where  the  pomp  of  Courts,  and  the 
glitter  of  a wealthy  aristocracy  were  contrasted  with  the  poverty 


68 


A Biographical  Essay. 


and  squalor  of  the  people  who  produced  the  wealth,  but  did  not 
share  it.  In  spite  of  a political  and  democratic  tyranny  not  less 
cruel  for  a time  than  that  of  the  old  regime,  and  when  afterwards 
the  young  Napoleon  rose  like  a new  god  of  battles  upon  the  ruins 
of  the  old  dynasty;  in  spite  of  a military  autocracy,  more  dangerous 
to  the  welfare  of  the  people  than  the  Sovereign  power  of  their 
old  Kings,  the  watchword  of  France,  “ Liberty,  Equality, 
Fraternity,”  rung  like  a trumpet  call  through  Europe,  so  that 
the  ramparts  of  medievalism  were  in  peril  of  falling  like  the  walls 
of  Jericho.  Italy,  as  well  as  the  other  nations,  heard  the  call  to 
liberty,  and  to  the  Court  of  Naples  the  murmurings  and  rumblings 
of  neighbouring  Vesuvius  were  symbolical  of  the  smouldering  fires 
in  the  hearts  of  the  Neapolitan  people.  Ferdinand  of  Naples  was 
doubtless  indifferent  to  all  such  signs  of  eruption.  He  was  one  of 
those  stupid,  easy-tempered,  self-indulgent  men,  who,  so  long  as 
they  can  satisfy  their  animal  appetites,  and  get  sufficient  entertain- 
ment to  prevent  the  occasional  boredom  of  life,  do  not  trouble  their 
heads  about  signs  of  the  times  or  gloomy  portals.  Ferdinand  was  a 
faineant  king.  The  business  of  the  State,  that  is  to  say  the  collection 
of  taxes  to  pay  for  his  luxury,  he  left  to  his  Ministers,  who  might 
rob  or  oppress  the  people  as  much  as  they  liked,  provided  they  gave 
him  plenty  of  pocket  money.  The  most  serious  work  of  his  life 
was  hunting  wild  boars  and  other  game  in  his  dominions,  and 
his  highest  ideal  was  to  be  a good  sportsman.  For  this  reason  he 
had  a great  admiration  for  the  British  Ambassador,  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  who  was  also  a good  shot,  and  a pleasant  companion  on 
a hunting  expedition. 

Queen  Maria  Caroline  was  of  a different  temperament.  She 
held  in  a firm  grasp  the  helm  of  State  which  her  Royal  husband 
was  so  perfectly  willing  to  relinquish  to  her,  and,  as  her  woman’s 
wit  was  quick  to  see  the  signs  of  coming  danger,  she  was  not  less 
astute  to  cultivate  friends  who  would  be  her  best  defence  when 


69 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


the  danger  came.  She  was  certainly  not  blind  to  the  fact  that  on 
the  small  stage  of  Naples  the  drama  of  the  French  Revolution 
might  be  played  out  in  miniature.  There  were  the  same  contrasts 
in  society,  the  same  type  of  idle,  vicious  aristocracy  preying  upon  a 
down-trodden  and  despairing  peasantry.  Already  the  “ new  ideas  ” 
had  infected  the  population  with  the  poisonous  bacillus  of  Liberty. 
The  democrats,  or  Jacobins,  as  they  were  called,  formed  a strong 
and  steadily  increasing  party  converted  to  the  Napoleonic  ideal  by 
Garat,  the  French  Ambassador  and  spy,  who  was  steadily  though 
secretly  at  work  undermining  the  foundations  of  the  throne.  So 
much  the  Queen  learnt  clearly  enough  from  her  own  spies  and  secret 
agents.  Worse  still,  the  poison  was  operating  not  only  among  the 
mob,  but  was  spreading  into  the  ranks  of  the  nobles,  many  of  whom 
were  plotting  to  set  up  a Republic  upon  the  model  of  France.  But 
Queen  Maria  Caroline  had  greater  strength,  and  less  womanliness, 
than  her  sister,  Marie  Antoinette.  She  was  determined  to  take 
a lesson  from  the  tragic  fate  of  that  sister,  and  to  deal  with 
revolutionaries  with  little  mercy.  Swiftly  and  relentlessly  the 
leaders  of  the  Jacobin  movement  were  arrested  and  thrown  into 
prison,  and  there  they  would  have  rotted  to  death  if,  at  a later 
date,  the  Queen  had  not  been  forced  to  liberate  them  as  “an 
act  of  clemency  ” by  the  threatened  violence  of  their  followers. 
But  as  history  was  being  quickly  made  in  those  years,  when 
Napoleon’s  sun  was  rising  over  the  battlefields  of  Europe,  Queen 
Maria  Caroline  realised  with  ever  growing  conviction  that  to 
one  nation  alone  must  she  turn  for  protection,  not  only  from  her 
own  subjects,  but  from  the  relentless  hand  of  the  Corsican,  whose 
eyes  were  already  turned  towards  the  Two  Sicilies.  England 
alone,  of  all  the  countries  of  Europe,  had  successfully  defied 
the  French  Eagle.  England’s  supremacy  of  the  sea  was  the  only 
power  that  could  save  the  Court  of  Naples  from  being  swept  into 
the  limbo  of  wrecked  kingdoms.  It  was,  therefore,  a matter  of 


70 


A Biographical  Essay. 


high  policy,  as  well  as,  no  doubt,  one  of  personal  attraction,  which 
encouraged  the  Queen  of  Naples  to  establish  the  most  intimate 
and  friendly  relations  with  Lady  Hamilton.  Emma’s  connexion 
with  the  Vice-Chamberlain,  the  Hon.  Charles  Greville,  with  whom 
she  maintained  a regular  correspondence,  enabled  her  not  only 
to  obtain  private  information  as  to  the  feeling  of  the  English 
Court  regarding  the  situation  at  Naples,  but  also  to  keep  open 
a secret  channel  of  communication  with  England  by  which  she 
could  impress  her  personality  upon  the  English  King  and  his 
advisers,  with  whom  Greville  was,  of  course,  on  friendly  terms. 
Then,  as  the  wife  of  the  British  Ambassador,  Lady  Hamilton 
formed  a convenient  medium  by  which  the  Queen  could  communi- 
cate with  him  without  arousing  the  suspicion  of  the  French  party 
in  Naples,  and  without  even  the  knowledge  of  her  own  Ministers, 
in  whom  she  had  but  little  faith.  Finally,  Sir  William  was 
flattered  and  pleased  at  any  attention  shown  to  his  wife,  and  his 
loyalty  to  the  interests  of  the  King  and  Queen,  so  necessary  now, 
when  they  relied  upon  his  friendship  as  the  best  security  of 
their  kingdom,  was  assured  by  the  Royal  favours  lavished  upon 
Lady  Hamilton  herself.  All  these  reasons  combined  to  make 
Emma  a person  of  high  importance  at  the  Court  of  Naples, 
and  enabled  her  to  bask  to  the  fullest  extent  in  the  sunshine  of  the 
Queen’s  indulgence. 

Hardly  a day  passed  without  Lady  Hamilton  spending  some 
hours  in  the  Queen’s  presence.  Horses,  carriages  and  grooms 
from  the  Royal  stables  were  put  at  her  disposal,  and  a Royal  dinner 
party  was  never  considered  complete  unless  she  graced  it  with  her 
beauty.  When  Sir  William  Hamilton  fell  ill — and  he  was  now,  as 
old  age  came  upon  him,  frequently  troubled  with  bilious  disorders — 
the  Queen  sent  sympathetic  messages  many  times  a day  to  Emma, 
and  actually  offered  to  relieve  her  in  her  arduous  duties  of  nursing. 
Upon  Sir  William’s  recovery  from  one  of  these  illnesses,  the  Royal 


71 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Palace  at  Caserta  was  placed  at  the  disposal  of  Lady  Hamilton,  so 
that  she  might  take  her  husband  there  for  a change  of  scene  during 
his  convalescence. 

Emma’s  life  during  these  years  was  very  busy  and  brilliant.  No 
longer  did  the  great  ladies  of  the  English  aristocracy  hold  aloof 
from  her  as  a person  of  doubtful  reputation,  but  at  her  house  at 
Caserta  she  constantly  entertained  such  distinguished  visitors  as 
the  Duchess  of  Ancaster,  the  Devonshire  Family,  Lord  and  Lady 
Cholmondeley,  Lord  and  Lady  Palmerston,  Lady  Plymouth,  Lady 
Spencer,  Lady  Bessborough,  Sir  George  and  Lady  Webster,  and 
Lord  Bristol.  These  ladies  were  indebted  to  their  hostess,  not 
only  for  the  pleasantest  hospitality  and  entertainment,  but  also  for 
their  introductions  to  the  Queen  of  Naples,  wrho  was  always 
gracious  to  Lady  Hamilton’s  friends.  “ Our  house,”  said  Emma  in 
a letter  to  Greville,  “ has  been  like  an  inn  this  winter,  as  we  have  had 
partys  that  have  come  either  to  see  the  environs,  or  have  been 
invited  to  Court.”  Although  Sir  William  and  Lady  Hamilton  had 
taken  up  their  residence  for  some  time  at  their  country  house  at 
Caserta,  they  drove  into  Naples  almost  every  day,  where  they 
entertained  on  a large  scale.  Fifty  people  often  sat  down  to  dinner 
at  the  town  house,  and  afterwards  there  were  balls  attended  by 
three  or  four  hundred  people  of  high  rank,  so  that  usually 
it  was  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  before  the  Hamiltons 
returned  to  Caserta  for  sleep  and  rest.  But  they  had  to  be  up  again 
in  good  time  in  order  to  attend  the  twelve  o’clock  meal  at  the 
Court,  where  the  Royal  Family  dined  early.  On  evenings  when  the 
Hamiltons  were  not  entertaining  themselves  they  generally  remained 
at  the  Palace,  where  they  were  treated  en  famille.  At  such  times 
Lady  Hamilton  had  long  and  intimate  talks,  tete-a-tete,  with  the 
Queen,  and  afterwards  there  was  music  in  the  private  apartments. 
“Yesterday,”  Emma  writes  on  June  2nd,  1793,  “the  King  and  me 
sang  duetts  three  hours.  It  was  but  bad,  as  he  sings  like  a King." 


72 


A Biographical  Essay. 


It  says  much  for  a woman  of  such  humble  up-bringing  that, 
in  spite  of  her  intimacy  with  the  Queen,  she  does  not  seem  to 
have  aroused  any  jealousy  or  hostility  among  the  other  ladies  of 
the  Court,  nor  did  she  ever  endanger  the  favour  shown  to  her  by 
any  undue  familiarity  in  public.  “ The  Ministers’  wives  are  very 
fond  of  me,”  she  wrote  in  the  same  letter  quoted  above,  “ as  they 
see  I have  no  pretentions ; nor  do  I abuse  of  Her  Majesty’s 
goodness,  and  she  observed  that  the  other  night  at  Court  at  Naples, 
[when]  we  had  a drawing-room  ...  I had  been  with  the  Queen 
the  night  before  alone,  en  famille , laughing  and  singing,  &c.,  &c., 
but  at  the  drawing-room  I kept  my  distance,  and  pay’d  the  Queen 
as  much  respect  as  though  I had  never  seen  her  before,  which 
pleased  her  very  much.  But  she  shewed  me  much  distinction  that 
night,  and  told  me  several  times  how  much  she  admired  my  good 
conduct.  I only  tell  you  this  to  shew  and  convince  you  I shall 
never  change,  but  always  be  simple  and  natural.”  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  Lady  Hamilton  was  just  as  “simple  and  natural”  as 
Emma  Hart  had  been.  It  was  about  this  time  that  she  wrote  to 
Greville  on  behalf  of  her  old  grandmother,  and  many  passages  in 
her  letters,  both  now  and  later,  show  that  her  love  for  her  mother 
was  as  strong  as  ever  in  spite  of  her  change  of  fortune.  Her 
charming  naturalness,  her  spontaneous  gaiety,  and  her  simple 
delight  in  her  own  beauty  and  talents  disarmed  the  criticism  of 
ladies  who  would  have  resented  any  haughtiness  or  pretension  on  her 
part,  while  her  sincere  affection  and  dutiful  regard  for  Sir  William 
enabled  her  to  behave  with  a liberty  and  unrestraint  of  manner 
towards  the  men  who  crowded  her  salon  which  would  have  been 
injudicious,  to  say  the  least,  in  a woman  whose  reputation  was  not 
secure.  Her  popularity  was  so  great  that  it  was  above  the 
prejudices  of  political  parties,  and  although  the  Jacobins  had  no 
friendliness  for  the  English  as  a nation,  regarding  them  as  the 
protectors  of  oppression,  they  had,  both  now  and  later,  when 


73 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


political  passion  ran  very  high,  a real  regard  and  admiration  for  the 
wife  of  the  British  Ambassador. 

Lady  Hamilton’s  letters  of  this  time  reveal  her  delight  in  her  new 
powers  and  distinction.  She  remarks  to  Greville  upon  her  “ very 
extraordinary  situation  ” at  the  Court,  and  prides  herself  upon  having 
“ got  into  politicks.”  She  is  never  tired  of  praising  the  character  of 
the  Queen,  hoping,  no  doubt,  that  her  artless  eulogies  will  be 
repeated  by  Greville  to  high  personages  in  England.  “If  you  could 
know  her  as  I do,”  she  writes  to  Greville,  “how  you  would  adore 
her ! for  she  is  the  first  woman  in  the  world  ; her  talents  are  superior 
to  every  woman’s  in  the  world  ; and  her  heart  is  most  excellent  and 
strictly  good  and  upright.  But  you’ll  say  it  is  because  we  are  such 
friends  that  I am  partial ; but  ask  everybody  that  knows  her.  She 
loves  England,  and  is  attached  to  our  Ministry,  and  wishes  the 
continuation  of  the  war  as  the  only  means  to  end  that  abominable 
French  Council.” 

The  Queen  herself  placed  implicit  trust  in  the  discretion  of  Lady 
Hamilton,  and  on  several  occasions  placed  in  her  hands  secret 
despatches  containing  private  information  upon  the  political  in- 
trigues of  France  with  European  Powers,  in  order  that  Emma 
might  show  them  to  Sir  William  for  transmission  to  his  Govern- 
ment. On  more  than  one  occasion  these  despatches  were  given  to 
Lady  Hamilton  before  the  King  of  Naples,  to  whom  they  were 
addressed,  had  heard  of  their  arrival,  and  it  is  evident  that  the 
Queen  knew  she  was  playing  dangerous  cards  in  handling  the  private 
correspondence  of  the  King  in  this  manner.  “ I only  beg  of  him” 
(that  is  Sir  William  Hamilton)  “ not  to  compromise  me,”  she  wrote 
to  the  Ambassador’s  wife,  when  enclosing  a cypher  letter  from 
Spain,  “ which  must  be  returned  before  twelve  o’clock  so  that  the 
King  may  have  it.”  Surely  there  has  been  no  stranger  thing 
in  history  than  the  way  in  which  a woman  who  had  begun  her 
life  as  a domestic  drudge  in  London  became  the  confidante  of 

74 


A Biographical  Essay. 


State  secrets  of  the  highest  importance  to  the  destiny  of  Europe ! 

Considerable  controversy  has  arisen  as  to  the  actual  contents  of 
the  cypher  letter  mentioned  above.  Dr.  Pettigrew,  the  early 
biographer  of  Lady  Hamilton,  declares  it  to  have  announced  the 
intention  of  the  King  of  Spain  to  join  hands  with  France,  the  early 
news  of  which  enabled  the  British  Ministry  to  send  orders  to  Sir 
John  Jervis  to  strike  an  immediate  blow  against  the  Spanish  fleet. 
Dr.  Pettigrew  supplemented  this  information  by  a romantic  story  of 
the  way  in  which  Lady  Hamilton  managed  to  prevail  upon  the 
Queen  to  steal  the  document  from  the  King’s  despatch  bag,  and  to 
let  her  copy  it  for  transmission  to  the  British  Government.  There 
seems  no  doubt  now  that  this  touch  of  romance  was  purely 
imaginary,  and  that  the  document  was  sent  to  Lady  Hamilton  upon 
the  Queen’s  initiative.  But  Nelson  himself  always  firmly  believed 
that  the  news  of  the  Spanish  King’s  alliance  with  France  first 
reached  England  through  the  medium  of  Lady  Hamilton,  although 
he  did  not  attribute  Sir  John  Jervis’s  victory  to  the  immediate 
result  of  this  information.  Whatever  may  be  the  exact  facts  of  the 
case,  and  no  documents  in  existence  are  able  to  decide  this 
particular  point,  it  is  clear  that  Lady  Hamilton  was  enabled  to 
transmit  important  information  to  the  British  Government  from 
time  to  time,  owing  to  her  intimacy  with  the  Queen,  and  a letter 
written  to  Greville  in  1796  shews  that  she  then  regarded  herself  as 
having  earned  the  gratitude  of  the  nation  by  important  services. 

“ We  have  not  time  to  write  to  you,”  she  said  in  a hurried  note 
on  September  21st  of  that  year,  “as  we  have  been  three  days  and 
three  nights  writing,  to  send  by  this  courier,  letters  of  consequence 
for  our  Government.  They  ought  to  be  grateful  to  Sir  William  and 
myself  in  particular , as  my  situation  at  this  Court  is  very  extraordinary , 
and  what  no  person  has  yet  arrived  at.  But  one  has  no  thanks, 
and  I am  almost  sick  of  grandeur.” 

One  must  go  back  now  to  an  incident  in  1793,  which,  though  she 


75 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


knew  it  not  at  the  time,  was  to  have  the  most  potent  influence  upon 
her  future  life.  This  was  the  visit  of  a young  naval  officer,  named 
Captain  Horatio  Nelson,  sent  with  despatches  to  Sir  William 
Hamilton.  At  that  time  Nelson  was  without  fame,  and  known  only 
to  the  Admiralty  as  one  of  those  gallant  and  promising  young  men, 
of  whom  there  was  then  no  dearth  in  the  Navy.  Nevertheless 
upon  his  arrival  at  Naples,  Sir  William  Hamilton  perceived  in  him 
some  characteristics  of  future  greatness  which  marked  him  out 
from  among  the  other  naval  officers  who  put  in  from  time  to  time 
at  the  Italian  port.  For  Nelson,  who  was  thirty-four  years  of  age, 
had  an  insatiable  desire  for  fame,  and  a consciousness  of  his  own 
genius,  which  gave  to  his  personality  an  impressiveness  of  a 
different  type  to  the  ordinary  characteristics  of  the  English  seaman. 
His  frail  body  was  animated  by  an  extraordinary  energy,  and  in  his 
large  restless  eyes  there  burned  a fire  that  shewed  the  spirit  of  the 
man.  Sir  William  prophesied  to  Lady  Hamilton  that  he  would  one 
day  rise  to  a high  position,  and  he  treated  him  with  a respect 
and  a flattering  hospitality  beyond  what  was  due  to  an  officer 
of  his  moderate  rank.  We  do  not  know  what  were  Lady 
Hamilton’s  sentiments  at  that  time  towards  the  man  who  after- 
wards became  her  hero  and  her  lover.  In  none  of  her  letters  at 
this  time  does  she  write  a word  that  might  be  interpreted  as  a 
foreboding  of  the  fate  that  should  bind  her  to  that  great,  little  man, 
in  an  immortality  of  fame.  On  Nelson’s  side  it  was  certainly 
not  a case  of  love  at  first  sight.  He  was  married,  and  undoubtedly 
at  that  time  happily  married,  and  he  only  felt  a sense  of  gratitude 
to  the  beautiful  wife  of  the  Ambassador  who  had  shown  so  much 
generous  hospitality  to  him.  The  captain  of  the  Agamemnon , who 
had  been  feasted  and  housed  in  Naples,  not  only  at  Embassy  balls, 
but  at  the  Court  by  the  King  and  Queen,  was  recalled  to  stern 
duty  by  the  news  of  “a  French  man-of-war  and  three  sail” 
anchored  off  Sardinia,  and  thus,  with  pleasant  memories  of  his 


76 


LADY  HAMILTON  (“SENSIBILITY”) 

BY  GEORGE  ROMNEY. 

By  kind  permission  of  the  owner.  Lord  Burton. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


reception,  left  the  place  to  which,  five  years  later,  he  would  return 
with  all  the  triumph  of  a conquering  hero. 

During  these  five  years  the  Hamiltons  heard  the  name  of  Nelson 
too  often  to  forget  the  slight,  delicate,  ardent  man  who  had  been 
their  honoured  guest,  though  as  yet  he  still  achieved  nothing 
but  the  promise  of  greatness.  But  in  many  a sea  duel,  in  many  a 
dangerous  cutting-out  adventure  in  the  boats,  in  the  vanguard 
of  many  a heroic  battle  with  the  fleets  of  France  and  Spain,  Nelson 
was  mentioned  in  despatches  for  his  gallantry  and  daring  and 
swift  resource.  13ut  during  those  same  years  a greater  name  than 
Nelson’s  had  dominated  the  imagination  of  the  world.  Napoleon 
had  been  working  out  his  destiny,  and  on  the  chessboard  of  Europe 
he  had  played  for  kingdoms,  with  kings  as  pawns.  There  is  no 
need  even  to  outline  the  great  Napoleonic  drama,  but  a few  words 
must  be  said  as  to  the  situation  of  Naples  in  1798.  Ferdinand  had 
been  forced  to  enter  into  a treaty  of  alliance  with  France,  much 
against  his  will,  and  the  leaders  of  the  Jacobin  movement,  who 
had  been  imprisoned  four  years  earlier  on  the  charge  of  plotting 
against  the  lives  of  the  King  and  Queen,  were  now  released  with  a 
free  pardon.  But  the  danger  of  the  Neapolitan  Kingdom  was 
now  extreme.  The  revolutionary  spirit  was  stronger  than  ever 
among  the  people,  and  many  of  the  nobles ; and  Ferdinand 
and  Maria  Caroline  knew  that  they  held  their  crowns  by  an  un- 
certain tenure.  They  learnt  also  that  Napoleon  was  only  ’biding 
his  time  to  dethrone  them  and  make  the  Two  Sicilies  a Republic 
State  under  the  dominion  of  France.  In  the  spring  of  1798  news 
was  brought  that  his  fleets  were  already  in  motion  for  a descent 
upon  Sicily  and  Naples,  and  saw  their  safety  depended  absolutely 
upon  the  succour  of  the  British  Navy. 

It  was  Lady  Hamilton  who  appealed  to  the  British  Government 
for  help.  She  wrote  an  imploring  letter  to  Earl  St.  Vincent, 
setting  forth  the  extreme  peril  of  the  Neapolitan  Court,  and 


77 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton . 


begging  him  to  send  a fleet  to  their  rescue.  This  letter  was 
answered  by  the  Admiral  in  the  most  chivalrous  terms,  addressed 
to  “The  Patroness  of  the  British  Navy,”  telling  her  that  he 
was  sending  “a  knight  of  superior  prowess”  to  the  succour  of 
their  Sicilian  Majesties.  This  “knight”  was  Rear-Admiral  Sir 
Horatio  Nelson,  who  was  commissioned  to  proceed  in  quest  of  the 
armament  preparing  at  Toulon  and  Genoa,  the  object  whereof 
appeared  to  be  an  attack  upon  Naples  or  Sicily.  “ Upon  falling  in 
with  the  armament,  or  any  part  of  it,”  he  was  instructed  to  use  his 
utmost  endeavour  “ to  sink,  burn,  and  destroy  it.” 

Nelson  firmly  believed  for  a time  that  the  object  of  Napoleon’s 
great  fleet  was  to  make  an  attack  on  Sicily,  as  his  Admiral  had 
suggested,  and  he  sent  assuring  messages  to  Sir  William  and 
Lady  Hamilton  that  he  would  defend  the  two  Sicilies  with  his 
utmost  energy.  But  he  did  not  find  it  easy  to  come  in  touch  with 
the  French  battleships,  and  his  own  fleet  was  dispersed  in  a heavy 
storm.  Afterwards  he  found  that  the  enemy  had  given  him  the 
slip,  and  he  was  entirely  baffled  as  to  Napoleon’s  destination.  He 
swept  up  and  down  the  Mediterranean,  and  with  full  sail  hurried 
away  to  Egypt,  Syria,  and  Asia,  and  then  back  again  in  eager 
search,  without  once  catching  a glimpse  of  the  French  line  of 
battle,  or  obtaining  any  authentic  information  as  to  their  where- 
abouts. It  was  now  absolutely  necessary  for  him  to  enter  and  victual 
his  ships  in  Sicilian  ports;  but  as  this  would  be  in  defiance  of 
Ferdinand’s  treaty  of  alliance  with  France,  he  sent  Captain 
Trowbridge  to  Naples  to  obtain  formal  permission  for  this  privilege. 
The  episode  now  occurred  upon  which  Lady  Hamilton  based 
her  claims,  in  later  years,  for  a pension  from  the  British  Govern- 
ment, and  one  that  Nelson  himself  referred  to,  in  the  clearest 
and  most  emphatic  terms,  in  the  famous  codicil  to  his  will, 
recommending  Lady  Hamilton  to  the  gratitude  of  the  nation  on 
account  of  her  great  and  patriotic  services.  When  all  the  romantic 


78 


A Biographical  Essay. 


and  imaginary  details  have  been  put  on  one  side,  it  is  clear  that 
Lady  Hamilton  used  her  great  influence  with  the  Queen  to 
obtain  the  necessary  authority  for  Nelson  to  get  fresh  supplies  for 
his  fleet  at  Syracuse  and  other  Sicilian  ports.  That  she  had 
any  great  difficulty  in  persuading  the  Queen  is  extremely  doubtful. 
It  is  quite  possible  that  Ferdinand  may  have  been  in  fear  and 
trembling  of  Napoleon’s  wrath,  should  he  violate  the  treaty  with 
France,  but  Queen  Maria  Caroline  herself  was  quite  clear-headed 
enough  to  see  that  her  only  hope  lay  in  the  success  of  Nelson  over 
the  French  fleet,  and  that  in  the  event  of  his  defeat  nothing 
whatever  would  save  the  Kingdom  of  the  Two  Sicilies  from  the 
revolutionary  party  in  their  own  State,  or  from  the  ruthless  hands 
of  Napoleon.  It  was,  therefore,  her  only  true  policy  to  give 
every  possible  facility  to  Admiral  Nelson,  especially  as,  if  she  did 
not  grant  the  required  permission,  he  was  quite  strong  enough  to 
take  by  force  what  he  asked  for  so  civilly.  Nevertheless,  nothing 
can  rob  Lady  Hamilton  of  the  honour  of  having  ardently,  and 
with  the  sincerest  patriotism,  represented  to  the  Queen  of  Naples 
the  claims  of  the  British  Navy  upon  her  good  services,  and  of 
having  obtained  for  Nelson,  promptly,  and  in  the  clearest  possible 
words,  the  permit  which  he  considered  so  necessary  to  his  success. 

Nelson’s  belief  in  the  importance  of  this  service  is  not  to  be 
doubted.  “ The  British  fleet,  under  my  command,”  he  wrote 
on  board  the  Victory , a few  hours  before  his  death,  “ could  never 
have  returned  the  second  time  to  Egypt  had  not  Lady  Hamilton’s 
influence  with  the  Queen  of  Naples  caused  letters  to  be  wrote 
to  the  Governor  of  Syracuse  that  he  was  to  encourage  the  fleet 
being  supplied  with  everything,  should  they  put  into  any  port 
in  Sicily.  We  put  into  Syracuse  and  received  every  supply,  went 
to  Egypt,  and  destroyed  the  French  fleet.” 

If  Nelson  himself  believed  his  victory  at  the  Nile  to  be  due 
in  no  small  measure  to  the  way  in  which  Lady  Hamilton  had  acted 


79 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


in  the  interests  of  her  nation,  it  seems  a cruel  injustice  to  the 
memory  of  that  remarkable  woman  to  refuse  her  any  claim  to 
honour  in  regard  to  this  service,  because  the  details  of  it  have  been 
too  highly  coloured  and  exaggerated  by  some  of  her  biographers. 
Perhaps  Nelson  himself  may  have  read  too  much  into  the  episode — 
for  one  can  hardly  believe  that  he  would  not  have  obtained  what 
he  wanted  at  Syracuse,  if  permission  had  been  withheld — but, 
at  least,  we  may  acknowledge  the  patriotic  and  admirable  behaviour 
of  Lady  Hamilton  at  that  critical  time. 

As  all  the  world  knows,  Nelson  at  last  discovered  the  French 
fleet  in  Aboukir  Bay,  and  at  “the  Battle  of  the  Nile,”  as  it  is 
now  called,  achieved  one  of  the  most  brilliant  and  heroic  victories 
in  the  history  of  naval  warfare.  When  the  Admiral’s  despatches 
were  brought  to  Naples,  the  English  party  and  the  Royalists  were 
delirious  with  joy,  and  the  Jacobins  became  very  quiet  and 
subdued.  To  Queen  Maria  Caroline,  and  to  Lady  Hamilton,  whose 
warm  and  emotional  nature  made  her  feel  the  liveliest  sympathy 
for  the  Royal  family,  with  whose  interests  also  her  own  future  was 
bound  up,  the  news  came  as  an  almost  painful  shock  of  relief. 
They  had  been  haunted  by  a great  fear.  For  months  they 
had  been  living,  as  it  were,  on  the  edge  of  a crater,  which  might 
belch  forth  its  fiery  lava  of  human  passion  and  engulf  them  in  the 
horrors  of  revolution  and  foreign  occupation.  Nelson  had  been 
their  only  hope.  To  Lady  Hamilton,  as  well  as  to  the  Queen, 
the  figure  of  Nelson  was  radiant  with  the  glamour  of  a Christian 
hero  against  the  powers  of  darkness.  His  name  had  been  devoutly 
spoken  in  their  passionate  prayers ; they  had  prayed  to  the  God 
of  battles  to  strengthen  his  right  arm,  so  that  he  might  shatter  the 
great  enemy  of  mankind.  Such  language  seems  extravagant  in 
these  days,  but  it  is  not  easy  now  to  realise  the  dread  terror 
inspired  by  the  genius  of  Napoleon  over  the  minds  of  those  who 
were  opposed  to  his  ambitions.  When,  therefore,  the  great  tidings 


so 


A Biographical  Essay. 


of  Nelson’s  victory  were  brought  to  Naples,  the  usually  calm  Queen 
lost  her  self-control  and  gave  way  to  hysterical  tears  of  joy, 
while  Lady  Hamilton  was  carried  away  by  her  emotion.  It  must 
be  confessed  that  the  fair  Emma  was  nothing  if  not  theatrical,  and 
her  characteristic  led  her  to  take  part  in  an  exhibition  which  would 
seem  rather  startling  in  these  days  to  the  wife  of  a British 
Ambassador.  She  drove  through  the  streets  of  Naples,  with  the 
two  naval  officers  who  had  carried  the  despatches,  wearing  a band 
round  her  forehead,  emblazoned  with  gold  letters  spelling  “ Nelson 
and  Victory ! ” by  which  she  announced  the  great  news  to  the 
populace.  But  this  demonstration  was  as  nothing  compared  to 
the  emotion  with  which  she  greeted  the  Admiral  himself  when 
he  came  in  triumph  to  Naples.  Upon  going  on  board  his  flagship, 
the  Vanguard , Lady  Hamilton  embraced  the  one-armed,  one-eyed, 
hero  in  a kind  of  ecstasy  of  gratitude,  and  exclaiming  “ O God,  is  it 
possible  ? ” fell  into  a sudden  swoon. 

“ She  fell  into  my  arm,”  wrote  Nelson  to  his  wife,  “ more  dead 
than  alive.  Tears,  however,  soon  set  matters  to  rights.”  She 
was  able  to  hide  her  emotion  during  the  arrival  of  the  King, 
who  stepped  on  board  Nelson’s  ship  with  the  greeting  of 
“ Deliverer  and  Preserver,”  but  Nelson  was  more  touched  by  the 
passionate  homage  of  the  beautiful  woman  than  by  the  grateful 
compliment  of  Ferdinand. 

The  Admiral  was  weak  with  wounds  and  fever,  and  at  the 
British  Embassy  Lady  Hamilton  tended  him  with  devotion.  But 
he  was  not  allowed  to  rest  and  recuperate  quietly  in  Naples. 
Tremendous  festivities  were  arranged  to  do  him  honour.  The 
King  and  Queen  held  great  assemblies  at  the  Court,  where  all 
the  Neapolitan  nobles,  even  those,  no  doubt,  who  were  secretly  in 
sympathy  with  the  French,  paid  the  most  flattering  and  outwardly 
enthusiastic  tributes  to  the  British  Admiral.  Sir  William  Hamilton 
was  not  behindhand,  and  spent  a fortune  upon  a fete  in  honour 


81 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


of  Nelson’s  fortieth  birthday,  at  which  nearly  two  thousand  people 
were  present.  But  Nelson,  thorough  Englishman  in  his  instincts 
and  piety,  felt  no  affection  towards  all  the  smirking  and  grimacing 
people  who  overwhelmed  him  with  sickening  praise  and  heated 
adulation.  He  saw  through  their  brilliant  uniforms  into  their  false 
and  vicious  hearts,  and  soon  discovered  that  all  their  pomp  and 
luxury  and  gaiety  covered  corrupt  and  squalid  natures.  In  coarse, 
sailor  language,  he  dismissed  them,  in  a letter  to  Earl  St.  Vincent, 
as  “ fiddlers  and  poets,  whores  and  scoundrels.”  Only  one  woman 
seems  set  above  these  gilded  popinjays  on  a pedestal  of  purity  and 
noble  character.  Startled  and  touched  by  the  extraordinary 
emotion  of  Lady  Hamilton,  whose  perfect  beauty  and  grace  lifted 
such  emotion  above  any  hint  of  ludicrous  effect,  the  Admiral,  never 
insensitive  to  woman’s  charms,  although  spotlessly  pure  hitherto 
in  all  his  relationship  with  women,  felt  himself  drawn  more  and 
more  towards  her. 

Her  natural  simplicity  of  manner  was  sweet  and  refreshing 
contrasted  with  the  painted  and  artificial  witcheries  of  the 
Neapolitan  ladies  around  her.  Her  gift  for  high  sentiments, 
and  the  noble  dignity  of  manner  which  she  undoubtedly  possessed 
at  this  time,  perhaps  from  close  association  with  a queen,  and 
also  from  companionship  with  the  many  great  English  ladies 
who  had  received  her  hospitality  at  Caserta,  deeply  impressed 
the  simple  sailor,  whose  long  service  at  sea  had  not  allowed 
him  to  see  much  of  the  fair  sex.  At  this  time,  at  least,  during 
the  first  few  weeks  he  spent  at  Naples,  Nelson’s  feelings  towards 
Lady  Hamilton  were  certainly  devoid  of  passion,  and  were  only 
based  upon  a tender  and  reverent  esteem  for  a lady  who 
had  shown  him  great  kindness  and  a beautiful  homage  to  his 
genius.  Quite  candidly,  and  without  any  arriert  pensee , he  was 
able  to  write  to  his  wife  about  the  gracious  woman  who  had 
nursed  him. 


82 


A Biographical  Essay . 


“I  hope  some  day,”  he  wrote,  “to  introduce  you  to  Lady 
Hamilton.  She  is  one  of  the  very  best  women  in  this  world  ; 
she  is  an  honour  to  her  sex.  Her  kindness,  with  Sir  William’s, 
to  me  is  more  than  I can  express ; I am  in  their  house,  and  I 
may  now  tell  you  it  required  all  the  kindness  of  my  friends  to 
set  me  up.” 

What  were  Lady  Hamilton’s  sentiments  towards  him  at  this 
early  period  of  their  intimacy  we  can  only  guess.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  Sir  William  Hamilton  was  now  an  old,  a pre- 
maturely old  man,  and  although  she  had  loved  him,  and  still  loved 
him,  grateful  for  all  his  kindness  to  her,  there  had  never  been 
any  romance  of  passion  in  that  love.  But  now  in  her  own  house 
was  a man,  a hero,  adored  by  England,  worshipped  as  a hero  by 
every  English  maid  whose  heart  might  be  moved  with  hero- 
worship.  This  great  man,  weak  in  body  but  strong  in  spirit,  a 
knightly  St.  George  who  had  sorely  wounded  the  Dragon  of 
France,  and  was  ready  and  eager  for  further  fights,  looked  to  her 
as  his  comforter  and  healer,  and  unburdened  his  heart  to  her 
as  a woman  who  could  understand ; he  told  her  his  secrets  and  his 
hopes  as  a woman  worthy  of  the  highest  trust,  and,  to  her  who 
had  been  hardly  treated  in  the  past,  who  had  been  scorned  as 
a frail  creature,  who  had  indeed  been  guilty  of  weakness  and 
sin,  he  expressed  a chivalrous  reverence,  and  gave  the  homage 
of  his  great  genius  as  to  a woman  of  extraordinary  virtue 
and  high  nobility  of  soul.  One  cannot  wonder  if  already  Lady 
Hamilton  was  stirred  with  dangerous  emotion,  and  troubled  with 
the  first  warnings  of  a seductive  passion.  To  have  the  homage 
of  a Nelson,  whom  all  the  world  applauded,  was  an  exultant 
thought  to  a woman  who  had  sprung  from  the  humblest  rank  of 
life,  and  who  had  known  much  of  man’s  patronage,  but  little  of 
man’s  reverence. 

This  dangerous  intimacy  between  an  emotional  woman  and  a 


83 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


sensitive  man  was  interrupted  for  awhile  by  Nelson’s  departure 
from  Naples  to  an  attack  upon  Malta,  where  the  French  were 
in  possession,  and  by  many  exciting  events  which  took  place 
during  his  absence. 

The  defeat  of  the  French  fleet  had  aroused  a sudden  and  fresh 
outburst  of  martial  enthusiasm  among  the  Neapolitan  loyalists, 
and  strengthened  the  hands  of  the  Royal  Family.  The  treaty 
with  France  was  renounced,  and  Garat,  the  French  emissary  in 
Naples,  was  packed  off  to  his  own  country,  and  an  army  of  nearly 
forty  thousand  men  was  raised  by  Ferdinand,  and,  under  an 
Austrian  General,  named  Mack,  took  the  field  against  the  French 
veterans  in  Italy,  full  of  enthusiasm  in  their  own  powers,  and 
with  the  highest  hopes  of  gaining  glory  at  a cheap  price.  But 
glory  does  not  come  to  them  who  are  not  prepared  to  pay  for 
it  with  dear  blood.  The  Neapolitans  were  better  as  “ fiddlers  and 
poets  ” than  as  fighting  men,  and  not  many  weeks  after  they  had 
set  out  in  gallant  array,  and  all  the  glitter  and  panoply  of  war, 
they  were  beaten  back  by  the  French  troops  of  far  inferior 
numbers,  ignominiously,  disastrously,  and  most  ingloriously.  The 
tables  were  turned.  The  Jacobin  party  in  Naples,  who  had  been 
lying  very  low  when  Nelson’s  ships  had  been  in  the  harbour, 
now  sprung  up  with  renewed  audacity.  The  Revolution  which  had 
been  long  smouldering  broke  out  into  red  flames.  Murder  stalked 
the  streets,  and  popular  riots  threatened  the  Royalists  with  all 
the  horrors  of  a Neapolitan  reign  of  terror.  The  Royal  Family 
was  in  extreme  peril,  and  Queen  Maria  Caroline,  who  had  shown 
the  strongest  mind  in  the  past,  became  panic-stricken,  while 
Ferdinand,  le  roi  faineant  in  time  of  peace,  revealed  some 
signs  of  courage  in  the  hour  of  peril.  He  was  for  staying  and 
defending  his  Court  against  the  revolutionists  with  the  aid  of 
his  bodyguard  and  the  brave  “ lazzaroni,”  or  beggars  who  had 
lived  lazily  on  his  charity  and  were  now  ready  to  fight,  standing 


84 


A Biographical  Essay. 


for  the  privileges  of  beggary  against  the  champions  of  a political 
liberty  that  would  probably  deprive  them  of  the  daily  bread 
for  which  they  did  not  need  to  work.  Maria  Caroline,  however, 
remembered  the  fate  of  her  sister,  Marie  Antoinette,  and  she  had 
no  ambition  to  gain  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  So  Ferdinand 
was  persuaded  to  escape  from  Naples  and  seek  safety  and  flight 
across  the  water  in  Palermo. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  person  upon  whom  the  Royal 
Family  relied  the  most  for  their  rescue  from  their  perilous  situation 
was  Lady  Hamilton.  This  was  the  most  romantic  episode  of  her 
remarkable  career,  and  never  before  or  later  did  she  rise  to  such 
a height  of  real  heroism ; to  her  activity  and  discretion  the  King 
and  Queen  certainly  owed  their  successful  flight  with  all  their 
treasure.  Never  having  taken  part  in  politics,  and  being  unsus- 
pected as  an  “ intrigante  ” by  the  Jacobin  party,  she  was  able  to 
receive  private  communications  from  the  Queen  without  arousing 
suspicion.  Although  the  Court  was  surrounded  with  spies,  it  never 
seemed  to  occur  to  the  revolutionists  that  the  constant  messages 
passing  from  the  Palace  to  the  British  Embassy  were  of  any 
serious  consequence.  Yet,  as  a matter  of  fact,  to  Lady  Hamilton 
there  were  secretly  conveyed  many  cases  of  good  red  gold,  ducats 
with  the  Royal  stamp,  and  all  the  precious  crown  jewels.  Night 
after  night  these  cases  of  treasure  were  carried  by  trusty  servants 
to  the  British  Embassy,  for  consignment  by  Lady  Hamilton  to 
Admiral  Nelson’s  flagship  which  had  again  entered  the  harbour 
of  Naples.  Lady  Hamilton  faithfully  carried  out  the  Queen’s 
wishes  regarding  those  precious  “ stones,”  and  kept  Nelson  in 
touch  with  the  arrangements  for  the  escape  of  the  Royal  Family. 
For  many  days  Lady  Hamilton  was  busy  also  in  packing  the  art 
treasures  of  Sir  William,  which  were  also  to  be  put  on  board  one 
of  the  British  vessels  in  the  harbour,  and  in  conveying  secret 
warnings  to  his  English  friends  that  the  time  was  at  hand  when 


85 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


they  must  leave  the  city  of  Naples.  Then,  one  dark  night,  the 
Ambassador’s  wife  joined  the  Royal  Family  at  the  Palace,  where 
they  were  all  waiting  in  readiness  for  an  adventure  which  was 
not  without  the  elements  of  tragedy  and  peril.  But  Lady 
Hamilton  cheered  them  with  her  courage  and  assurances,  and 
at  the  appointed  hour  they  moved  silently  out  of  the  Royal 
residence  and  made  their  way  down  a long  subterraneous  passage 
to  a cove  off  which  the  Vanguard  was  lying-to.  Here  Nelson 
was  waiting  to  receive  the  fugitives,  and  they  were  conveyed  on 
board  his  ship,  while  the  revolutionaries  in  the  city  were  in 
absolute  ignorance  of  what  was  taking  place.  The  voyage  to 
Palermo  was  a perilous  one.  A terrific  hurricane  broke  over  the 
British  ships,  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  would  founder  every  minute. 
Poor  Sir  William  Hamilton,  bold  as  a hunter  of  wild  boars, 
completely  lost  his  nerve  before  the  danger  of  the  storm,  and  sat 
in  his  cabin  with  a revolver  in  each  hand,  vowing  that  he  would 
blow  his  brains  out  rather  than  drown  like  a dog.  But  Lady 
Hamilton  showed  the  utmost  heroism,  and  her  cheering  words 
of  hope,  and  ministering  hands,  were  very  welcome  to  the  King 
and  Queen  and  the  Royal  children.  One  of  these  little  ones,  the 
youngest  infant,  was  seized  with  illness  brought  on  by  sea-sickness, 
and  breathed  out  its  poor  little  life  in  her  arms.  This  tragic 
event  filled  the  Royal  Family  with  the  most  gloomy  foreboding, 
and  Ferdinand  regretted  for  the  time  at  least  that  he  had  ever 
been  prevailed  on  to  leave  his  palace  at  Naples.  At  last,  how- 
ever, they  were  landed  safely  at  Palermo,  and  here,  after  a little 
while,  both  the  King  and  Queen  recovered  their  spirits,  and  their 
Court  life  resumed  once  more  its  ordinary  routine  of  careless 
luxury  and  brilliant  frivolity. 

At  Naples,  when  the  flight  of  the  Sovereign  and  his  Consort 
was  discovered,  the  revolutionary  party  assumed  the  reins  of 
government  until  French  troops  took  possession  of  the  city,  when 


86 


A Biographical  Essay. 


the  short-lived  Neapolitan  Republic,  after  the  massacre  of 
many  thousands  of  loyal  Lazzaroni,  was  established.  But  it  was 
not  long  before  the  most  ardent  of  the  Neapolitan  firebrands 
repented  of  their  bargain,  and  a strong  reaction  set  in.  The  French 
Generals  and  the  agent  of  the  Republican  Convention  imposed 
an  enormous  tax  on  the  citizens  of  Naples  and  the  peasants  of 
the  surrounding  country,  and  robbed  the  city  of  all  its  treasures 
with  a shameless  greed  and  rapacity  never  surpassed  by  French 
soldiers  who  made  booty  a privilege  of  victory.  It  soon  became 
evident  to  Ferdinand  that  he  had  very  little  to  fear  from  his  own 
subjects  if  the  British  fleet  could  drive  out  the  French  army 
from  his  Neapolitan  territories,  and  he  was  confident  that,  with 
Nelson’s  help,  he  could  recover  his  kingdom.  Admiral  Nelson 
was  not  the  man  to  avoid  any  encounter  with  the  French,  by 
land  or  sea,  and  his  instructions  at  this  time  from  the  British 
Government  gave  him  a perfectly  free  hand  to  crush  the  new- 
formed  Republic,  which  owed  whatever  power  it  might  have  to 
French  arms  and  influence,  to  expel  the  enemy  from  all  the 
fields,  forts,  and  islands  in  their  possession,  and  to  reinstate 
King  Ferdinand  in  his  dominions. 

After  having  chased  and  defeated  a French  squadron,  and  thus 
disappointed  the  great  hope  of  reinforcements  that  had  been 
cherished  by  the  Neapolitan  Republic,  Admiral  Nelson,  whose 
flag  was  now  on  the  Foudroyant,  returned  to  the  Bay  of  Naples, 
carrying  on  board  King  Ferdinand  himself,  from  whom  he  received 
full  powers  of  action  over  his  Neapolitan  subjects,  and  accom- 
panied also  by  Sir  William  and  Lady  Hamilton,  the  former,  of 
course  in  his  capacity  as  British  Ambassador,  the  latter  for 
future  services  as  an  interpreter.  At  the  time  several  important 
forts  which  had  fallen  into  French  hands  were  being  besieged 
by  a combined  force  of  British,  Russian,  and  Turkish  allies, 
together  with  a small  army  of  Neapolitan  loyalists  under  the 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


leadership  of  an  ecclesiastic  named  Cardinal  Ruffo.  Among  these 
forts  were  the  castles  Ovo  and  Nuovo,  which  harboured  many 
of  the  most  prominent  and  distinguished  Neapolitan  revolutionaries, 
and  a difficult  situation  arose  when  Cardinal  Ruffo  established  a 
truce  on  favourable  terms  with  the  defenders,  and  obtained  a 
cessation  of  hostilities  preparatory  to  the  surrender  of  the  forts 
with  all  honours  and  privileges. 

The  naval  officer  in  command  of  the  British  force  had  been 
induced  by  Cardinal  Ruffo  to  put  his  signature  to  the  surrender, 
but  before  the  capitulation  could  be  accomplished  the  terms  of 
surrender  were  repudiated  by  King  Ferdinand  and  Admiral 
Nelson,  who  considered  them  a shameful  concession,  and  invalid 
without  their  sanction.  A stormy  scene  occurred  in  Nelson’s 
cabin,  on  board  the  Foudroyant.  Cardinal  Ruffo,  speaking  passion- 
ately in  Italian — not  one  word  of  which  could  Nelson  understand, 
but  which  was  interpreted  by  Lady  Hamilton  who  was  present 
at  this  historic  interview — demanded,  pleaded,  and  implored,  that 
his  treaty  should  be  respected  and  his  honour  upheld.  Fiercely 
and  piteously  by  turns  he  endeavoured  to  persuade  Nelson  that 
by  all  the  recognised  rules  of  war,  as  well  as  by  the  faith  of 
gentlemen,  the  terms  of  surrender  which  he  had  granted  to  the 
beleagured  garrison  should  be  carried  out  to  the  letter.  But 
Admiral  Nelson  sat  impassively  with  a stern  face,  turning  a deaf 
ear  to  the  tornado  in  Italian,  but  listening  silently  to  Lady  Hamilton’s 
quieter  rendering  of  the  Cardinal’s  harangue.  Nothing  would 
alter  his  determination  to  repudiate  a treaty  arranged  without 
the  sanction  of  the  King,  and  of  himself,  as  Admiral  of  the 
Fleet,  and  Ferdinand’s  plenipotentiary.  At  last,  baffled  at  every 
point,  Cardinal  Ruffo  left  in  a rage,  and  eventually  the  garrisons 
were  compelled  to  surrender  unconditionally,  and  “the  rebels,” 
as  Nelson  wrote  afterwards,  “ came  out  of  the  castles  to  be 
hanged  or  otherwise  disposed  of  as  their  Sovereign  thought  proper.” 


88 


A Biographical  Essay. 


Shortly  afterwards  another  episode  occurred  which  gave  a 
handle  to  Nelson’s  enemies,  and  afterwards  to  the  slanderers  of 
Lady  Hamilton.  This  was  the  execution  of  a distinguished 
Neapolitan  rebel,  named  Prince  Carracciolo,  who,  after  a trial 
by  court-martial  of  his  own  countrymen,  was  condemned  to  death 
and  hanged  on  the  fore-yard-arm  of  the  Minerva.  It  has  been 
alleged  with  the  most  monstrous  inaccuracy  and  injustice  that 
Lady  Hamilton  used  her  influence  to  prevent  Nelson  from 
exercising  the  prerogative  of  mercy,  and  that  she  gloated  with  a 
fiendish  delight  over  the  death  of  this  unhappy  nobleman,  actually 
being  rowed  round  the  Minerva  to  get  a good  look  at  the  body 
swinging  from  the  yard-arm.  All  this  is  a tissue  of  lies,  for 
Lady  Hamilton  was  not  present  at  the  execution,  and,  as  a letter 
from  the  Queen  of  Naples  proves,  she  was  much  distressed  by 
the  horror  and  tragedy  of  this  event.  As  for  Nelson  himself,  he 
had  very  little  to  do  with  the  execution,  merely  giving  orders 
for  the  court-martial  of  this  traitor  by  his  own  countrymen,  and 
authorising  the  sentence  to  be  carried  out.  There  is  not  the 
slightest  doubt  that  the  Prince  fully  deserved  his  fate,  for,  after 
having  feigned  the  greatest  loyalty  to  the  Royal  Family,  he  had 
taken  up  arms  against  his  Sovereigns  and  become  one  of  the 
most  prominent  leaders  of  the  revolution. 

The  short  lived  Neapolitan  Republic  was  now  crushed  out 
of  existence,  the  French  were  bundled  out  of  Naples  and  the 
surrounding  country,  and  the  rebels  paid  the  heavy  price  of  an 
unsuccessful  insurrection.  It  must  be  admitted  that  Queen 
Maria  Caroline,  who  now  held  the  reins  of  power  again,  her 
husband  reverting  to  his  former  carelessness  of  sovereign  authority, 
did  not  show  much,  if  any,  womanly  mercy  towards  the  revolu- 
tionary leaders  who  were  now  repenting  in  prison.  “ Off  with 
their  heads  ” was  the  tenour  of  her  despatches  from  Palermo, 
and  a bloody  equivalent  was  taken  for  the  assassinations 


89 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


committed  by  the  men  who  had  enjoyed  such  a brief  triumph. 

Lady  Hamilton,  whose  influence  over  Nelson  and  the  Queen 
was  fully  known,  became  the  great  hope  of  the  unhappy  prisoners. 
Her  warm  heart  and  womanly  feelings  were  appealed  to  by 
many  of  the  rebels  who  had  gloomy  forebodings  of  their  fate. 
Letters  poured  in  upon  her  filled  with  the  most  piteous  and 
heart-rending  prayers  for  her  merciful  intervention,  and  expressing 
the  utmost  confidence  in  her  great  power  to  moderate  the 
punishment  of  these  offenders,  if  she  would  but  speak  in  their 
favour.  It  was  an  extraordinary  position  for  a woman  who  had 
risen  from  such  a humble  origin,  but  although  the  rebels  did  not 
exaggerate  her  sensibility,  they  overrated  the  extent  of  her 
influence.  Queen  Maria  Caroline  was  determined  to  wreak  her 
vengeance  to  the  full  upon  those  who  had  conspired  against  her 
husband’s  crown,  and  however  much  affection  she  felt  for  the 
wife  of  the  British  Ambassador,  she  was  not  prepared  to  allow 
her  any  authority  over  the  lives  and  fate  of  the  delinquents. 
Nevertheless,  Lady  Hamilton  did  her  best  on  behalf  of  those 
who  appealed  to  her  charity,  and  if  in  most  cases  they  suffered 
the  extreme  penalty  of  their  rebellion,  it  was  not  for  want  of 
mercy  in  the  heart  of  the  Ambassador’s  wife.  In  another  way 
she  became  the  Lady  Bountiful  of  the  Neapolitan  people,  for  she 
had  the  privilege  of  distributing  large  sums  of  money  sent  to  her 
by  the  Queen  for  the  relief  of  the  unfortunate  families  who  had 
suffered  from  the  scenes  of  violence  in  their  city.  Afterwards 
Lady  Hamilton  received  £9,000  from  the  Queen’s  privy  purse 
for  distribution  among  the  Maltese,  who  had  also  suffered  much 
during  the  French  occupation  of  their  island.  For  all  these 
services  Lady  Hamilton  was  rewarded  by  an  honour  which  had 
never  before  been  granted  to  a woman.  Upon  the  suggestion  of 
Nelson  himself*  the  King  conferred  upon  her  the  Order  of  the 
Cross  of  Malta.  From  the  Queen  she  received  a more 


90 


A Biographical  Essay. 


substantial  recognition  of  her  services.  Upon  her  return  to 
Palermo  in  Nelson’s  flagship  with  Sir  William  Hamilton  and  the 
King,  the  Queen  received  her  in  public  with  the  most  affectionate 
embraces,  and  placed  round  her  neck  a gold  chain  to  which  was 
suspended  a miniature  portrait  of  Maria  Caroline  herself,  set 
with  diamonds  and  gems  forming  the  words  “ Eterna  Gratitudine.” 
Some  days  later  the  Queen  sent  her  two  coach-loads  full  of 
magnificent  dresses  worth  several  thousands  of  pounds,  and  a 
portrait  of  King  Ferdinand  studded  with  jewels  and  valued  at  a 
thousand  guineas.  Sir  William  Hamilton  also  received  many 
valuable  gifts  from  the  Royal  Family.  Apart  from  the  really 
great  services  that  had  been  rendered  by  the  Hamiltons,  and 
especially  by  Lady  Hamilton,  to  the  King  and  Queen  of  Naples,  they 
merited  compensation  for  the  very  severe  losses  they  had  suffered 
on  account  of  the  revolution.  Sir  William’s  house  at  Caserta,  on 
which  he  had  lavished  such  large  sums  of  money,  had  been  looted 
and  practically  destroyed  by  the  rebels  and  their  French  allies,  and 
worse  still,  many  of  the  precious  art  treasures  collected  during  the 
course  of  many  years  by  the  Ambassador,  and  packed  on  board  the 
Colossus  at  the  time  of  their  flight  to  Palermo,  had  been  lost  in  the 
disastrous  wreck  of  that  vessel.  The  presents  from  the  King  and 
Queen,  which  made  some  amends  for  these  grievous  losses,  were 
also  parting  gifts,  and  mementos  of  Sir  William  Hamilton’s 
official  connection  with  the  Court  of  Naples.  At  the  beginning  of 
1800,  shortly  after  his  return  to  Palermo  in  the  Foudroyant,  the 
Ambassador  received  the  news  of  his  recall  to  England.  It  did 
not  come  as  a surprise  to  him,  nor  did  he  consider  it  as  any 
censure  on  his  official  conduct.  Old  age  had  now  come  upon  him 
with  rapid  strides,  and  he  was  a broken  and  enfeebled  man.  He 
had  long  complained  to  the  Home  Government  that  he  was  growing 
tired  of  his  duties,  and  would  be  glad  of  a release  from  them. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  with  natural  pangs  that  he  found  himself 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


compelled  to  terminate  his  official  career,  and  receive  his  successor 
in  office,  the  Honourable  Arthur  Paget.  Lady  Hamilton  perhaps 
felt  his  recall  more  keenly.  She  could  not  but  reflect  that,  as  the 
wife  of  an  Ambassador,  she  had  enjoyed  a higher  dignity  than  she 
would  have  again  when  Sir  William  was  only  a private  gentleman 
with  diminished  fortunes  ; and  at  this  time,  however,  any  gloomy 
thoughts  which  may  have  occurred  to  her  were  dispelled  by  the 
sunshine  of  Nelson’s  presence,  and  by  the  daily  increasing  know- 
ledge that  the  great  little  Admiral  depended  upon  her  smiles  and 
sympathy  for  happiness.  Nelson,  for  his  distinguished  services  as 
“ Preserver  of  the  two  Sicilies,”  had  received  the  Dukedom  of 
Bronte  from  the  grateful  King,  and  had  been  created  a peer  of 
England  as  a reward  for  his  victory  at  the  Nile.  While  the 
Court  was  still  at  Palermo,  before  returning  to  Naples,  he  had  not 
been  idle,  or  become  enervated  by  the  love  and  passion  which  now 
undoubtedly  possessed  him.  He  had  chased  a French  fleet  and 
captured  a great  battleship  called  Le  Genereux.  But  now  his  work 
was  done  for  the  time  being  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  he  was  free 
to  return  to  England,  and  to  his  poor  patient  wife  who;was  await- 
ing him  so  anxiously  at  home.  It  would  have  been  better  for  him 
if  he  had  made  his  homeward  voyage  without  delay  ; but  he 
lingered  on,  unwilling  to  sever  himself  from  the  company  of  the 
Hamiltons,  and  spent  several  weeks  in  cruising  round  Sicily  and 
Malta  with  the  Hamiltons  on  board  his  flagship.  It  was  during 
these  days,  no  doubt,  that  this  intimacy  with  Lady  Hamilton 
ripened  into  something  warmer  than  Platonic  friendship.  Con- 
stantly in  the  company  of  the  beautiful  woman  who  had  seemed 
to  him  “ incomparable  and  divine,”  the  impressionable  suitor  forgot 
the  faith  he  had  sworn  to  another  woman  whom  he  had  once 
sincerely  loved.  There  is  no  record  of  what  took  place  during  that 
cruise  which  so  altered  his  relations  to  Lady  Hamilton,  and  it 
is  impossible  to  say  upon  whose  side  lay  the  burden  of  the  fault 


92 


LADY  HAMILTON.  BY  ROMNEY. 

From  the  original  painting. 

By  kind  permission  of  the  owner , The  Earl  of  Wcmyss. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


which  is  the  gravest  blemish  upon  the  noble  reputation  of  one  of 
England’s  greatest  heroes.  Doubtless,  under  the  blue  sky  and  on 
the  placid  sea,  this  man  of  battles,  and  this  woman  of  many 
weaknesses,  became  the  victims  of  a passion  which  had  begun  in 
honour  and  mutual  reverence,  and  was  to  end  in  a guilty  and 
secret  bond  of  body  and  soul.  From  the  date  of  that  fateful 
voyage,  Lord  Nelson  and  Lady  Hamilton  became  all  in  all  to  each 
other,  and  in  that  intimacy  and  communion,  beautiful  and 
ennobling  if  it  had  been  founded  upon  moral  law,  they  remained 
until  death  came  between  them. 

Upon  returning  to  Palermo  at  the  end  of  May,  1800,  Nelson  was 
invited  by  the  Queen  to  take  her  to  Leghorn  with  her  four  children, 
and  as  the  Hamiltons  agreed  to  accompany  them,  en  route  for 
England,  the  Admiral  was  not  loth  to  accept  the  Queen’s  proposi- 
tion. Upon  their  arrival  at  Leghorn  they  found  that  place  in  a state 
of  wild  commotion  owing  to  the  approach  of  a French  army,  and 
the  Queen’s  party  found  it  discreet  to  leave  the  Royal  Palace  for  the 
greater  safety  of  H.M.S.  Alexander , which  was  now  flying  Nelson’s 
flag.  The  Queen  decided  to  go  to  Vienna,  and  again  Nelson  and 
the  Hamiltons  were  persuaded  to  accompany  her.  The  journey 
was  really  a triumphant  progress  for  the  great  Admiral,  whose 
victory  at  the  Nile  had  been  the  severest  blow  to  Napoleon’s 
ambitions  ; and  the  Hamiltons  shared  in  the  extraordinary  demon- 
strations of  homage.  At  every  town  where  they  stopped  they  were 
received  with  popular  ovations  and  sumptuous  fetes,  and  upon  their 
arrival  at  Vienna,  the  Austrian  Court,  including  the  Emperor  and 
Empress  and  all  the  great  nobles,  arranged  a long  succession  of 
festivities  in  their  honour.  Lady  Hamilton  was  treated  with  as 
much  respect  as  if  she  were  a reigning  Queen,  and  her  marvellous 
beauty  was  the  theme  of  everyone’s  conversation.  For  nearly  a 
month  they  remained  at  Vienna,  and  then,  on  the  27th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1800,  the  Hamiltons  bade  farewell  to  Maria  Caroline  with 


93 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


whose  fortunes  their  own  had  been  so  intimately  associated,  whose 
House  they  had  served  with  a long  fidelity,  and  with  whom  they 
had  enjoyed  a friendship  of  the  most  intimate  and  cordial  character. 
Nelson  still  accompanied  his  friends,  and  on  their  way  to  Hamburg, 
where  they  expected  to  find  a frigate  to  convey  them  to  England, 
they  stopped  at  Prague  and  Dresden,  where  they  again  experienced 
all  the  triumph  of  public  ovation.  Then  at  last,  after  ten  days  at 
Hamburg  waiting  for  a vessel  homeward  bound,  they  crossed  the  sea 
and  arrived  at  Great  Yarmouth  on  the  6th  of  November.  Even  now 
Nelson  could  not  tear  himself  away  from  the  company  of  Sir  William 
and  Lady  Hamilton,  and  the  fellow  travellers  journeyed  slowly  to 
London,  through  towns  where  Nelson  first  learnt  the  love  which 
the  English  people  had  for  him,  through  villages  where  old  men 
brought  their  little  grandchildren  to  gaze  on  the  great  Admiral  who 
had  thrashed  the  French,  through  one  long  echoing  cheer  from 
English  throats  for  the  hero  of  the  Nile.  Thus  they  came  to 
London,  where  they  now  separated,  Sir  William  and  Lady  Hamilton 
to  find  a temporary  dwelling-place  in  Grosvenor  Square,  where  a 
friend  had  placed  his  home  at  their  disposal,  Lord  Nelson  to  go  to 
Nerot’s  Hotel,  in  King  Street,  where  an  anxious  wife,  who  had 
heard  many  strange  tales  of  his  association  with  a fair  enchantress, 
awaited  him  with  a troubled  and  heavy  heart. 

The  happiest  and  most  brilliant  days  of  Lady  Hamilton’s  life 
were  at  an  end.  The  years  that  were  to  follow  in  England  were 
not  without  their  hours  of  exultation  and  secret  ecstasy,  for  the  love 
of  Nelson,  who  was  to  rise  to  great  heights  of  fame,  was 
a wonderful  gift  to  a woman  who  craved  for  love,  and  was  eager  to 
share  in  the  glory  of  her  lover.  But  they  were  years  also  of 
feverish  excitement,  of  constant  anxiety,  of  disappointed  ambition, 
and  if  we  may  read  her  character  rightly,  of  secret  shame.  For 
the  shadow  of  sin  obscured  the  sunshine  of  a love  that  might  have 
been  so  glorious,  and  in  her  heart  Emma  Hamilton  knew  that  she 
had  fallen  again  from  the  virtue  which,  in  spite  of  her  early  lapses 
through  ignorance  and  circumstance,  she  had  always  cherished. 


94 


A Biographical  Essay. 


Chapter  VI. 

CRD  NELSON’S  relations  with  his  wife  must  have  been  exceed- 
ingly uncomfortable  from  the  very  first  day  of  their  meeting 
after  so  long  an  absence.  It  seems  that  Lady  Nelson  at  first 
endeavoured  to  hide  her  feelings  towards  the  woman  for  whom 
her  husband  showed  such  an  extraordinary  regard,  and  of  whom 
many  scandalous  stories  had  no  doubt  reached  her  ears.  Although 
Nelson  himself,  simple  soul  that  he  was,  probably  had  not  the  least 
idea  at  this  time  that  his  liason  with  Lady  Hamilton  had  become  a 
matter  of  public  gossip,  it  is  certain  that  it  already  afforded  a 
subject  for  malicious  tongues  and  scandalous  pens  in  London. 
Stories  of  the  early  years  of  the  famous  beauty’s  career,  grossly 
exaggerated,  and,  where  facts  failed,  audaciously  invented  by 
scurrilous  wits,  were  in  active  circulation.  Club  men  whispered 
abominations  from  ear  to  ear,  and  husbands  told  their  wives  at 
home  that  they  had  better  be  careful  of  Lady  Hamilton  if  they 
should  meet  her  in  Society.  Human  nature  would  have  been 
different  then  than  now  if  some  of  these  suggestive  tales  had  not 
been  confided  to  Lady  Nelson  herself  by  “kind  friends”  who 
“thought  it  right  that  she  should  know.”  Perhaps  she  was  wise 
and  charitable  enough  not  to  believe  the  insinuations  against  her 
great  husband  until  she  could  form  her  own  opinion  on  the  subject, 
and  for  this  reason  she  did  not  refuse  to  meet  the  Hamiltons  as  he  so 
ardently  desired.  But  when  she  did  see  Lord  Nelson  in  the  com- 
pany of  the  beautiful  woman,  whose  name  was  on  everybody’s  lips, 
she  saw  with  a woman’s  intuition,  sharpened  by  the  jealousy  of  a 
wife,  that  there  was  a secret  understanding  between  them  in  which 


95 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


she  had  no  share.  This  revelation  came  to  her  at  the  theatre,  where 
the  Hamiltons  shared  a box  with  them,  and,  overcome  by  a sudden 
emotion,  she  fell  back  in  a faint.  This  incident,  which  did  not  pass 
unnoticed,  afforded  fresh  gossip  for  the  Society  scandal-mongers, 
and  their  excitement  was  still  further  increased  a few  weeks  later 
when  they  learnt  that  Lord  Nelson  had  accompanied  Sir  William 
and  Lady  Hamilton  to  a Christmas  house  party  at  Fonthill,  in 
Cheshire  (given  by  Sir  William’s  cousin,  Mr.  Vathek  Beckford)  while 
Lady  Nelson  remained  alone  in  town.  Then  there  came  to  London 
in  private  letters,  which  soon  became  food  for  public  tittle-tattle, 
numerous  descriptions  (highly  coloured  no  doubt)  of  the  various 
incidents  that  had  taken  place  during  those  country  festivities. 
Lord  Nelson  had  travelled  down  in  the  Hamiltons’  company,  and 
upon  being  received  at  the  steps  by  all  the  assembled  guests  to  the 
strains  of  “God  save  the  King”  and  “Rule  Britannia,”  he  had 
entered  the  house  with  Lady  Hamilton  on  his  arm.  During  the 
whole  of  the  visit  he  had  no  eyes  (or  perhaps  one  should  say,  no 
eye ) for  anyone  but  Sir  William’s  wife.  They  had  been  seen 
frequently  together  in  intimate  conversation.  His  reverence  and 
admiration  for  her  was  most  noticeable  to  every  observer.  It  was 
perfectly  evident  that  the  great  Admiral  worshipped  the  very 
ground  under  Lady  Hamilton’s  feet.  So  ran  the  gossip  of  the  day  ; 
and  again,  no  doubt,  there  were  kind  friends  of  Lady  Nelson  who 
communicated  these  facts  to  her  in  delicate  consideration  of  her 
feelings.  Upon  Nelson’s  return  to  town  the  relations  with  his  wife 
were  more  strained  than  before.  A quarrel  took  place  over  the 
dinner  table.  Nelson  alluded  to  his  “dear  Lady  Hamilton,”  and  all 
the  jealousy,  the  just  jealousy  of  an  injured  wife,  broke  out  in  a 
passionate  protest  that  she  was  tired  of  hearing  about  “that 
woman,”  and  that  he  must  choose  between  them,  for  she  would 
have  all  of  Nelson’s  heart  or  none  of  it.  This  domestic  drama, 
tragic  for  all  concerned,  had  reached  its  inevitable  crisis.  Nothing 


96 


A Biographical  Essay. 


could  patch  up  a peace  between  husband  and  wife,  for  Lord  Nelson 
was  bound  to  Lady  Hamilton  by  secret  ties  of  intimacy  from  which 
he  could  not  release  himself  without  tearing  out  his  own  heart.  It 
was  therefore  agreed  by  Lord  and  Lady  Nelson  that  they  should 
separate,  and  from  the  beginning  of  1801  Nelson  never  lived  with 
his  wife  again.  He  was  not  ungenerous  to  the  woman  he  had 
wronged,  and  settled  £1,600  a year  upon  her,  a handsome  allowance 
which  at  least  ensured  her  all  outward  comforts,  though  her  inward 
happiness  may  have  been  destroyed.  Poor  Lady  Nelson  has  been 
dealt  with  hardly  and  unsympathetically  by  the  enthusiastic 
admirers  of  her  great  husband,  yet  one’s  pity  must  go  out  to  the 
quiet,  commonplace  woman  who  failed  to  satisfy  the  ideals  and 
sentiments  of  our  naval  hero. 

The  Hamiltons  removed  from  their  friend’s  house  in  Grosvenor 
Square  to  a house  of  their  own  in  Piccadilly,  which  became  Lord 
Nelson’s  home  whenever  he  was  in  town  with  them.  Sir 
William  Hamilton  was  at  this  time  in  a somewhat  impecunious 
condition,  as  it  was  some  little  time  before  he  succeeded  in 
obtaining  a pension  of  £1,200  a year  from  the  Government. 
Lady  Hamilton  voluntarily  sold  her  diamonds  to  pay  part  of  the 
expense  of  moving  into  the  new  residence,  and  Sir  William 
parted  with  a good  many  of  his  pictures.  Lord  Nelson  had  some- 
thing to  say  to  Emma  on  both  these  subjects  in  his  letters  to 
her.  He  was  indignant  with  Sir  William  in  allowing  her  to  sell 
her  jewels,  and  as  for  the  pictures,  “ I would  have  starved,”  he 
said,  “before  I would  have  sold  a picture  of  you.  I wonder  Sir 
William  could  do  it.” 

Both  Sir  William  and  Lady  Hamilton  were  at  this  time 
indulging  in  ambitions,  and  putting  forward  claims  for  past 
services,  which  only  led  to  much  feverish  excitement  and  ended 
in  disappointment.  The  ex-Ambassador  demanded  compensation 
from  the  Government  for  the  losses  he  had  sustained  in  the 


97 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Neapolitan  revolution,  but  he  did  not  succeed  in  extracting 
a penny  on  this  account  from  the  Treasury.  Then  his 
wealthy  cousin  Vathek  Beckford,  a man  who  had  been  under 
a social  cloud  for  a time,  entered  into  a plot  with  Sir  William 
Hamilton  for  buying  in  peerages,  both  for  Sir  William  and  him- 
self, agreeing  to  pay  £2,000  a year  to  the  former  if  his  influence 
proved  successful.  At  that  time  it  was  not  impossible  to  buy  a 
peerage,  or  to  obtain  it  through  political  influence,  but  Sir 
William  Hamilton  either  did  not  know  the  right  strings  to  pull, 
or  Vathek  Beckford’s  offers  did  not  tempt  the  politicians  then 
in  power.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  scheme  fell  to  the  ground,  so 
that  the  fair  Emma  was  baulked  of  her  ambition  of  being  a peeress. 

In  their  renewal  of  London  life,  the  Hamiltons  lived  in  a style 
of  great  extravagance,  entertaining  lavishly,  and  indulging  in  such 
luxuries  as  carriages  and  horses  and  many  servants.  For  this 
Nelson  again  rebuked  Sir  William  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Lady 
Hamilton,  who  had  recently  been  complaining  of  their  poverty ; but 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  Emma  herself  was  the  active  partner 
in  this  ostentatious  display,  eager  in  her  desire  to  play  the  same 
role  in  London  society  which  she  had  so  brilliantly  enacted  in 
Italy.  It  hurt  her  very  much  that  the  Queen,  who  had  heard  all 
the  scandal  of  the  town  regarding  her  reputation,  would  not 
receive  her  at  Court.  This,  of  course,  alienated  many  ladies  of 
fashion  from  her  drawing-room,  and  placed  her  to  a certain 
extent  in  a dubious  social  position.  Nevertheless,  a great  number 
of  distinguished  ladies,  who  were  not  so  much  influenced  by 
Court  example,  and  who  were  ready  to  enjoy  a hospitality  so 
enjoyable  as  that  of  the  Hamiltons,  gave  a sufficient  eclat  to 
her  salon,  and  Lord  Nelson’s  presence  alone  was  naturally  the 
means  of  attracting  a crowd  of  great  people  to  bask  in  his  glory. 
Probably  at  this  time  Nelson’s  separation  from  his  wife  had  not 
leaked  out  beyond  his  intimate  circle  and  family,  and  as  for  the 


98 


A Biographical  Essay. 


rumours  of  his  relations  with  Lady  Hamilton,  propriety  itself  was 
satisfied  by  the  fact  that  Sir  William  still  lived  on  the  most 
affectionate  terms  with  his  wife,  and  regarded  Lord  Nelson  with 
the  utmost  reverence  and  cordiality.  Then,  too,  the  Nelson 
family — good  Mrs.  Nelson,  the  wife  of  his  clergyman  brother,  a 
lady  of  the  most  old-fashioned  virtue  and  respectability,  did  not 
refuse  her  friendship  to  Lady  Hamilton,  and  Mrs.  Matcham,  the 
Admiral’s  sister,  was  equally  friendly  with  the  woman  who  had 
been  the  means  of  separating  Lord  Nelson  and  his  wife.  So, 
on  the  whole,  Lady  Hamilton  was  not  too  dissatisfied  with  her 
position  in  London,  and,  indeed,  considering  the  great  secret 
which  she  was  hiding  at  this  time,  it  may  well  have  been  a 
cause  for  much  thankfulness. 

That  she  should  have  been  able  to  keep  that  secret  from  her  own 
husband,  and  from  the  world,  must  always  be  an  amazing  thing. 
Towards  the  end  of  January,  1801,  a fortnight  after  Nelson  had  left 
London  for  Plymouth  to  prepare  an  expedition  to  the  Baltic,  Lady 
Hamilton  gave  birth  to  a child,  and,  according  to  the  story  told  by 
the  nurse  many  years  afterwards,  she  took  the  tiny  girl  secretly, 
by  night,  in  a hackney  coach,  and  quite  unattended,  to  No.  9,  Little 
Tichfield  Street,  Marylebone,  where  she  confided  it  to  the  care  of  a 
Mrs.  Gibson,  who  minded  it  until  Sir  William  Hamilton’s  death. 
Although  much  ink  has  been  spilt  over  this  historic  baby,  and  the 
lack  of  absolute  evidence  has  caused  the  story  of  its  birth  to  be  a 
subject  of  embittered  controversy,  there  can  hardly  be  a doubt  that 
little  Horatia  Nelson  Thompson,  as  the  child  was  christened,  was 
really  the  daughter  of  Emma  Hamilton.  And  there  can  be  no 
doubt  whatever  that  Lord  Nelson  himself  fully  believed  that  he 
was  the  father  of  this  child  by  Lady  Hamilton.  Many  writers, 
jealous  for  Nelson’s  good  name,  have  endeavoured  to  make  out  that 
Lady  Hamilton  foisted  somebody  else’s  child  upon  the  simple  hero 
in  order  to  have  a greater  hold  upon  his  feelings,  and,  as  some  have 


99 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


not  scrupled  to  say,  upon  his  purse.  There  is  no  need  to  go  into  all 
the  details  of  an  historical  discussion  that  was  rather  ingenious 
than  profitable.  It  must  be  clear  to  everyone  who  has  read  the 
Nelson  and  Hamilton  letters  that  the  great  Admiral  acknowledged 
little  Horatia  as  his  own,  and  what  he  believed  is  surely  beyond  the 
doubt  of  others  ? The  story  that  he  was  able  to  see  his  child 
before  leaving  England  for  his  great  battle  in  the  Baltic  seems 
likely  enough,  for  it  is  known  that  he  made  a flying  visit  to  London 
from  Plymouth.  Afterwards,  when  doing  his  duty  at  sea,  he  wrote 
frequently  to  Lady  Hamilton,  and  from  these  private  and  intimate 
letters  we  learn  more  of  his  relations  with  the  woman  who  had 
taken  possession  of  his  heart.  For  a time,  fearing  lest  his  letters 
might  fall  into  wrong  hands,  Lord  Nelson  maintained  a fiction 
which  it  is  easy  to  read  through  now  that  we  have  the  clue  to  it. 
Whenever  he  alluded  to  himself  or  to  Lady  Hamilton  in  connection 
with  their  secret  love  and  the  fruit  of  that  love,  it  was  under  the 
name  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thompson  (or  Thomson  as  he  spelt  it, 
indifferently).  He  made  out  that  he  had  this  Thompson  on  board 
his  ship,  and  had  to  console  him  for  being  parted  from  his  wife  and 
new-born  infant. 

“ I have  seen  and  talked  much  with  Mrs.  Thomson’s  friend,”  he 
writes,  in  March,  1800.  “The  fellow  seems  to  eat  all  my  words 
when  I talk  of  her  and  his  child.  He  says  he  can  never  forget  our 
goodness  and  kind  affection  to  her  and  his  dear,  dear  child.  I have 
had,  you  know,  the  felicity  of  seeing  it,  and  a finer  child  never  was 
produced  by  any  two  persons.  It  was,  in  truth,  a love-begotten 
child  ! I am  determined  to  keep  him  on  board  ; for  I know  if  they 
got  together  they  would  soon  have  another.  But  after  our  two 
months’  trip  I hope  they  will  never  be  separated ; and  then  let 
them  do  as  they  please.”  There  are  many  such  references  to  the 
mysterious  Thompson,  and  there  have  been  biographers  of  Lord 
Nelson  simple  enough  to  believe  that  this  person  actually  existed, 


100 


LADY  HAMILTON  AS  A NUN  PRAYING. 

BY  GEORGE  ROMNEY. 

By  kind  permission  oj  the  owner,  Tankerville  Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P. 


A Biographical  Essay 


that  his  wife  was  a protegee  of  Lady  Hamilton,  and  that  his  infant 
was  Lord  Nelson’s  god-child.  But  the  fiction  is  so  transparent 
that  one  can  hardly  realise  such  credulity,  and  other  phrases  in 
Lord  Nelson’s  letters  when  he  dropped  disguise  clearly  reveal  the 
truth.  His  language  was  that  of  an  ardent  lover,  and  he 
acknowledged  again  and  again  the  secret  tie  that  bound  them  to 
one  another. 

“I  have  been  the  world  around,”  he  writes  in  February,  1801, 
“ and  in  every  corner  of  it,  and  never  yet  saw  your  equal, 
never  one  which  could  be  put  in  comparison  with  you.”  In 
the  following  month  he  writes,  “ You  cannot  think  how  my 
feelings  are  alive  towards  you,  probably  more  than  ever : and 
they  never  can  be  diminished.  My  hearty  endeavours  shall  not 
be  wanting  to  improve  and  to  give  us  new  ties  of  regard  and 
affection.”  He  ends  the  letter  as  “ for  ever,  ever  yours,  only 
yours.” 

In  May  of  the  same  year  he  writes,  “ I assure  you,  my  dear 
Emma,  and  I feel  a thorough  conviction,  that  we  shall  meet 
again,  with  honours,  titles  and  health,  and  remain  together  to  a 
good  old  age.  I look  at  your  and  my  god-child’s  picture;  but 
till  I am  sure  of  remaining  here  I cannot  bring  myself  to  hang 
them  up.  Be  assured  that  my  attachment  and  affectionate 
regard  is  unalterable  ; nothing  can  shake  it ! And  pray  say  so 
to  my  dear  Mrs.  T.  [Thomson]  when  you  see  her.  Tell  her 
that  my  love  is  unbounded  to  her  and  her  sweet  child ; and  if 
she  should  have  more,  it  will  extend  to  all  of  them.  In  short, 
my  dear  Emma,  say  everything  to  her  which  your  dear  and 
affectionate  heart  and  head  can  think  of.” 

In  one  letter,  written  in  the  Spring  of  1801,  there  is  no  allusion 
to  “ Mr.  Thomson,”  and  the  Admiral  threw  off  all  disguise, 
knowing  that  the  letter  would  be  delivered  safely  to  Lady 
Hamilton  by  a trusted  friend. 


101 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


“ Now,  my  own  dear  Wife,”  it  runs,  “for  such  you  are  in  my 
eyes  and  in  the  face  of  heaven,  I can  give  full  scope  to  my 
feelings,  for  I dare  say  Oliver  will  faithfully  deliver  this  letter. 
You  know,  my  dearest  Emma,  that  there  is  nothing  in  this 
world  that  I would  not  do  for  us  to  live  together  and  to  have 
our  dear  little  child  with  us  ...  I love,  never  did  love  anyone 
else.  I never  had  a dear  pledge  of  love  till  you  gave  me  one, 
and  you,  thank  my  God,  never  gave  one  to  anybody  else.  I 
think  before  March  is  out  you  will  see  us  back,  or  so  victorious 
that  we  shall  insure  a glorious  issue  of  our  toils.  Think  what 
my  Emma  would  feel  at  seeing  return  safe,  perhaps  with  a little 
more  fame,  her  own  dear  loving  Nelson.”  Then  in  a postscript 
added  next  day,  he  says,  “ Kiss  and  bless  our  dear  Horatia — 
think  of  that.” 

From  this  letter  it  becomes  perfectly  clear  that  the  “ Thomson  ” 
story  was  a mere  blind,  and  that  Nelson  rejoiced  in  having 
Horatia  as  a pledge  of  love.  And  it  is  also  clear  from  one  phrase 
that  Lady  Hamilton  had  not  at  this  time  confessed  to  him  that 
she  had  had  a child  many  years  before — the  “ little  Emily,” 
whose  fate  is  still  a mystery. 

After  the  battle  of  the  Baltic,  Nelson  did  return  “ with  a little 
more  fame,”  and  he  was  able  for  a brief  time  to  enjoy  his 
Emma’s  company  again.  But  it  was  not  for  long,  for  England 
needed  him,  and,  whatever  his  weakness  may  have  been,  he  never 
languished  in  the  arms  of  love  when  duty  called  him.  Before 
he  went  to  sea  again  he  commissioned  Emma  to  find  a country 
house  for  him  in  a quiet  spot,  to  which  the  Hamiltons  might 
retire  whenever  they  wanted  a rest  from  town,  and  where,  during 
his  brief  spells  on  shore,  he  might  enjoy  their  society  without 
objectionable  publicity.  Lady  Hamilton  entered  into  her  task 
with  delight,  and  scoured  the  suburbs  for  a likely  residence. 
After  much  searching  she  selected  a commodious,  old-fashioned 


102 


A Biographical  Essay. 


villa  at  Merton,  with  good  grounds,  which  she  felt  was  the  very 
place  to  suit  Lord  Nelson’s  tastes.  Here,  Sir  William  and  Lady 
Hamilton  stayed  with  Mrs.  Cadogan,  the  old  mother  who 
continued  to  flourish  and  to  earn  the  golden  opinions  of  her 
daughter’s  husband  and  friends.  Nelson  himself  had  a high 
regard  for  her,  and  never  failed  to  send  her  his  compliments. 
From  Merton,  Sir  William  wrote  to  his  friend  whom  he  still 
honoured  and  revered.  “ We  have  now  inhabited  your  Lordship’s 
premises  some  days,”  wrote  the  old  gentleman,  “and  1 can  now 
speak  with  some  certainty.  I have  lived  with  dear  Emma 
several  years.  I know  her  merit,  have  a great  opinion  of  the 
head  and  heart  that  God  Almighty  has  been  pleased  to  give  her ; 
but,  a seaman  alone  could  have  given  a woman  full  power  to 
choose  and  fit  up  a residence  for  him  without  seeing  it  himself. 
You  are  in  luck,  for  in  my  conscience  I very  believe  that  a 
place  so  suitable  to  your  views  could  not  have  been  found,  and 
at  so  cheap  a rate.  ...  It  would  make  you  laugh  to  see  Emma 
and  her  mother  fitting  up  pigstyes  and  hencoops,  and  already 
the  canal  is  enlivened  with  ducks,  and  the  cock  is  strutting 
with  his  hens  about  the  walks.  Your  Lordship’s  plan  as  to 
stocking  the  canal  with  fish  is  exactly  mine,  and  I will  answer 
for  it  that  in  a few  months  you  may  command  a good  dish  of 
fish  at  a moment’s  warning.” 

Lord  Nelson  had  been  miserably  ill  on  board  ship,  and  it  is  rather 
startling  to  find  this  great  sailor  complaining  that  “ 1 am  so  dread- 
fully sea-sick  that  ! can  hardly  hold  up  my  head.”  But  Lady 
Hamilton’s  letters  cheered  him  up  : 

“ The  moment  I got  your  letters,  off  I came,  and  have  read  them 
with  real  pleasure.  They  have  made  me  much  better,  I think ; at 
least  I feel  so. 

I admire  the  pigs  and  poultry.  Sheep  are  certainly  most  beneficial 
to  eat  off  the  grass.  Do  you  get  paid  for  them ; and  take  care  that 


103 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


they  are  kept  on  the  premises  all  night,  for  that  is  the  time  they  do 
good  to  the  land.  They  should  be  folded.  Is  your  head  man  a good 
person,  and  true  to  our  interest  ? I intend  to  have  a farming  book. 
I am  glad  to  hear  you  get  fish ; not  very  good  ones,  I fancy. 

It  is,  I thank  God,  only  six  days  before  I shall  be  with  you,  and  to 
be  shewn  all  the  beauties  of  Merton.  I shall  like  it  leaves  or  no 
leaves. 

No  person  then  can  take  amiss  our  not  visiting.  The  answer 
from  us  will  always  be  very  civil  thanks,  but  that  I wish  to  live 
retired.  We  shall  have  our  sea  friends  ; and  I know  Sir  William 
thinks  they  are  the  best.” 

It  was  on  the  22nd  of  October,  1801,  that  Nelson  went  to  Merton 
House,  after  having  spent  three  months  in  the  Downs  guarding  the 
English  coast  from  invasion.  It  was  his  longest  spell  on  shore 
between  his  return  from  Italy  and  his  death  on  board  the  Victory , 
and  lasted  for  one  year  and  six  months,  during  which  time  he  was 
constantly  in  the  Hamiltons’  company.  He  was  perfectly  delighted 
with  the  house  and  grounds  at  Merton,  and  spent  many  pleasant 
weeks  in  devising  new  improvements  to  the  place  which  he  looked 
forward  to  in  the  future  as  the  home  of  the  wife  and  children  which 
he  believed  would  be  his  when  time  should  inevitably  “ remove  the 
impediments.”  But  in  spite  of  his  preconceived  idea  to  live  “ in 
retirement,”  those  eighteen  months  on  shore  were  full  of  social 
distractions  and  festivities  in  his  honour.  He  was  too  great  a hero 
with  English  Society  for  them  to  leave  him  alone.  For  poor  old 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  old  in  body  and  mind,  though  not  so  stricken 
in  years  as  older  men  who  were  far  more  youthful,  such  gaiety  and 
bustle  were  not  agreeable.  He  was  not  allowed  to  end  his  days  in 
peace,  but  had  to  play  the  host  at  continual  entertainments  at  his 
town  house  during  the  season,  and  was  rattled  about  England  in  a 
triumphant  tour  made  by  Lord  Nelson,  with  his  brother  the  clergy- 
man, and  his  brother’s  wife,  and,  of  course,  with  Lady  Hamilton  her- 


104 


A Biographical  Essay. 


self.  Sir  William’s  nerves  were  now  irritable,  and  there  were 
constant  altercations  between  husband  and  wife  on  account  of  all 
this  entertainment.  It  was  the  same  old  story  of  crabbed  old  age  and 
blooming  youth.  In  a pathetic  letter  which  he  placed  in  his  wife’s 
room  Sir  William  acknowledged  this  melancholy  fact : “ I am 
arrived  at  the  age,”  he  said,  “ when  some  repose  is  really  necessary, 
and  I promised  myself  a quiet  home,  altho’  I was  sensible,  and  said 
so  when  I married,  that  I should  be  superannuated  when  my  wife 
would  be  in  her  full  beauty  and  vigour  of  youth.  That  time  is  now 
arrived,  and  we  must  make  the  best  of  it  for  both  parties.  Unfor- 
tunately our  tastes  as  to  the  manner  of  living  are  very  different.” 
In  this  letter  Sir  William  proposed  “a  wise  and  well  concerted 
separation,”  but  he  was  careful  to  add,  somewhat  inconsistently 
perhaps,  that  he  had  no  complaint  to  make,  although  he  felt  that 
his  wife’s  whole  attention  was  given  to  Lord  Nelson  and  his 
interests  at  Merton.  “ I well  know  the  purity  of  Lord  Nelson’s 
friendship  for  Emma  and  me.  And  I know  how  very  uncomfortable 
it  would  make  his  Lordship,  our  best  Friend,  if  such  a separation 
should  take  place,  and  am  therefore  determined  to  do  all  in  my 
power  to  prevent  such  an  extremity,  which  would  be  extremely 
detrimental  to  all  parties,  but  would  be  more  sensibly  felt  by  our 
dear  Friend  than  by  us.” 

Lady  Hamilton  must  have  been  much  moved  by  this  letter. 
Although  she  was  guilty  of  secret  intimacy  with  Nelson,  we  can 
well  believe  that  she  still  had  affection  for  the  husband  who  had 
been  so  consistently  kind  and  generous  towards  her  during  their 
years  of  married  life.  His  affection,  as  well  as,  no  doubt,  her  own 
interest,  induced  her  to  humour  her  husband,  and  consult  his 
wishes  more  tenderly,  so  that  the  domestic  friction  ceased  and  the 
last  months  of  Sir  William  Hamilton’s  life  were  more  placid  and 
happy. 

His  death  came  somewhat  suddenly  in  April  of  the  year  1803. 


105 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


For  six  nights  Lord  Nelson  sat  with  his  friend  during  his  last 
illness,  and  Lady  Hamilton  did  all  that  a loving  wife  should  to 
alleviate  his  suffering  and  soothe  his  failing  mind.  To  the  very 
end  he  had  no  suspicion  of  his  wife  or  friend,  and  when  he  died  it 
was  with  his  hands  clasped  in  theirs. 

Generous  to  Lady  Hamilton  in  life,  he  took  care  that  she  should 
be  well  provided  for  after  his  death.  The  bulk  of  his  fortune  went 
to  Charles  Greville,  whom  he  had  always  regarded  as  his  heir,  but 
his  widow  received  £800  at  once,  and  an  annuity  of  the  same  sum, 
as  well  as  all  the  plate  and  furniture  of  his  town  house  to  the  value 
of  £5,000.  Besides  this  he  had  hoped  and  expected  that  on  account 
of  her  services  to  the  nation,  part  at  least  of  his  pension  should  be 
continued  to  Lady  Hamilton  by  the  Government.  In  this  idea 
Nelson  himself  had  always  supported  him,  believing  that  his  own 
influence  and  the  good  offices  of  Queen  Maria  Caroline  of  Naples, 
would  be  sufficient  to  induce  the  Ministry  to  grant,  say,  £500  a 
year  for  life,  to  a woman  whom  Nelson  regarded  as  having  con- 
tributed, to  no  small  extent,  to  his  victory  of  the  Nile,  by  enabling 
his  ships  to  water  and  take  in  supplies  at  Syracuse,  and  whom  he 
justly  credited  as  having  been  the  right  hand  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton  during  his  Neapolitan  crisis,  when  the  Ambassador’s 
powers  were  failing  on  account  of  his  ill-health.  Lady  Hamilton 
herself  considered  these  claims  fully  entitled  her  to  a Government 
pension,  and  until  the  end  of  her  life,  especially  after  Lord  Nelson’s 
death,  she  left  no  stone  unturned  to  establish  them.  But  in  spite 
of  Nelson’s  great  influence,  the  Ministry  turned  a deaf  ear  to  these 
appeals.  The  Admiral  wrote  to  the  Queen  of  Naples  begging  her  to 
support  Lady  Hamilton’s  case,  and  reminding  her  of  her  former 
friend’s  services  to  both  countries.  But  to  the  annoyance  of 
Nelson,  and  the  disappointment  of  Lady  Hamilton,  Maria  Caroline 
was  one  of  those  people  who  fulfil  the  old  proverb  that  absence  is 
the  grave  of  love.  While  Lady  Hamilton  had  been  at  Naples  nothing 


108 


A Biographical  Essay. 


had  been  too  much  to  do  her  honour,  but  now  the  Queen  responded 
in  a cold  and  guarded  manner  to  Lord  Nelson’s  letter,  and  did  not 
go  to  any  trouble  in  supporting  Lady  Hamilton’s  claims. 

Nevertheless,  Emma  was  by  no  means  reduced  to  poverty  by  Sir 
William’s  death.  £800  a year  was  by  no  means  a beggarly  income 
as  money  went  in  those  days,  besides  which  Nelson  made  Lady 
Hamilton  a generous  allowance  during  his  lifetime. 

Six  weeks  after  Sir  William’s  death,  Nelson  was  again  ordered  off 
on  active  service  as  Commander-in-Chief  on  the  Mediterranean 
Station,  and  on  the  eighteenth  of  May  he  hoisted  his  flag  on  the 
Victory  at  Portsmouth.  For  nearly  two  years  he  never  set  foot  on 
shore,  and  during  all  that  time  he  was  doing  “sentry-go”  in  the 
Mediterranean,  waiting  to  destroy  the  French  fleet  under 
Villeneuve  whenever  it  should  slip  out  of  the  harbour  of  Toulon 
for  the  attempted  invasion  of  England.  Only  once  more  was  he  to 
have  a brief  spell  on  shore,  and  when  he  said  the  next  farewell  to 
Emma  and  their  child,  it  was  to  go  to  his  last  great  victory  and 
his  death. 

During  his  long  absence  Lady  Hamilton  spent  most  of  her  time 
at  Merton,  only  leaving  it  for  short  visits  to  town,  or  to  stay  for  a 
while  with  Mrs.  Nelson,  the  clergyman’s  wife,  in  Norfolk.  She 
was  still  on  excellent  terms  with  all  the  Nelson  family,  and  Mrs. 
Nelson,  who  by  all  accounts  was  a most  admirable  lady,  and  very 
strict  as  regards  propriety,  thought  so  highly  of  Lady  Hamilton’s 
good  qualities  that  she  entrusted  her  little  daughter  Charlotte 
(afterwards  Lady  Charlotte  Nelson  and  Duchess  of  Bronte)  to 
Emma’s  care  for  a considerable  time.  Emma’s  letters  at  this  time 
to  Mrs.  Nelson  (now  in  possession  of  the  Hon.  Alexander  Nelson 
Hood)  are  full  of  Charlotte’s  doings,  and  she  was  never  tired  of 
praising  the  child’s  beauty,  good  behaviour  and  diligence.  It  is 
somewhat  amusing  indeed  to  contrast  the  matronly  character  and 
the  zeal  for  genteel  etiquette  of  the  middle-aged  Emma  with  the 


107 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


gay,  easy  mannered  and  high  spirited  Emma  of  the  old  days.  Her 
moral  sentiments  on  the  value  of  education,  and  her  accounts  of 
the  strict  manner  in  which  she  coached  Mrs.  Nelson’s  daughter  in 
all  the  elegancies  and  proprieties  befitting  a young  lady  of  the 
period,  are  somewhat  startling  when  one  remembers  her  own  humble 
origin  and  lax  upbringing.  These  letters  are  also  interesting  as 
shewing  that  Lady  Hamilton  was  still  received  in  the  best  Society, 
and  was  still  welcomed  in  many  aristocratic  drawing  rooms  on 
account  of  her  beauty  and  social  charm. 

In  spite  of  the  difficulty  of  communication  from  the  Mediterranean, 
Nelson  corresponded  with  her  in  frequent  and  lengthy  letters,  and, 
however  busy  she  might  be  with  Charlotte  or  Horatia  (who  was 
now  brought  to  Merton),  or  with  her  social  distractions,  she  never 
failed  to  give  him  all  the  news  of  her  daily  life  in  the  most  detailed 
manner.  In  Nelson’s  monotonous  life  on  board  the  Victory  the 
arrival  of  those  long  budgets  were  his  greatest  source  of  joy. 

“All  your  letters,  my  dear  letters ,”  he  writes,  “are  so  entertaining! 
and  which  paint  so  clearly  what  you  are  after  that  they  give  me 
either  the  greatest  pleasure  or  pain.  It  is  the  next  best  thing  to 
being  with  you. 

I only,  desire,  my  dearest  Emma,  that  you  will  always  believe 
that  Nelson’s  your  own.  Nelson’s  Alpha  and  Omega  is  Emma  ! I 
cannot  alter ; my  affection  and  love  is  beyond  even  this  world  ! 
Nothing  can  shake  it,  except  yourself;  and  that  I will  not  allow 
myself  to  think,  for  a moment,  is  possible.’’ 

In  many  of  these  letters  Nelson  looked  forward  to  the  time  when 
Lady  Hamilton  should  be  bound  to  him  by  marriage. 

“ I rejoice  that  you  have  had  so  pleasant  a trip  to  Norfolk,’’  he 
writes,  on  August  20th,  1803,  “ and  I hope  one  day  to  carry  you 
there  by  a nearer  tie  in  law,  but  not  in  love  and  affection,  than  at 
present.’’ 

Referring  to  Emma’s  efforts  to  establish  her  claims  for  a pension, 


108 


LADY  HAMILTON 


BY  ROMNEY 


A Biographical  Essay. 


he  writes  on  October  18th  of  the  same  year:  “ If  Mr.  Addington 
gives  you  the  pension  it  is  well,  but  do  not  let  it  fret  you.  Have 
you  not  Merton  ? It  is  clear — the  first  purchase — and  my  dear 
Horatia  is  provided  for ; and  I hope  one  of  these  days  that  you  will 
be  my  own  Duchess  of  Bronte  ; and  then  a fig  for  them  all.” 

It  is  very  touching  to  see  in  these  letters  how  the  Admiral’s  heart 
was  filled  with  love  for  the  little  child  whom  he  had  only  seen  for  a 
few  brief  hours,  but  who  drew  out  all  the  sailor’s  tenderness  and 
sentiment. 

“ Everything  you  tell  me  about  my  dear  Horatia  charms  me,”  he 
writes,  “I  think  I see  her,  hear  her,  and  admire  her;  but  she  is 
like  her  dear,  dear  mother.” 

Our  great  naval  hero,  whose  brain  was  busy  and  anxious  with 
the  enormous  responsibility  of  his  task  in  guarding  our  shores  from 
invasion,  could  still  think  of  such  a small  thing  as  the  fencing  of  a 
pond  at  Merton,  so  that  little  Horatia  might  be  safe  from  the  danger 
of  falling  in.  Referring  to  various  alterations  to  be  made  in  the 
grounds  of  his  house,  he  says,  “I  also  beg,  as  my  dear  Horatia  is  to 
be  at  Merton,  that  a strong  netting,  about  three  feet  high,  may  be 
placed  round  the  ‘ Nile,’  that  the  little  one  may  not  tumble  in  ; and 
then  you  may  have  ducks  again  in  it.  I forget  at  what  place  we  saw 
the  netting  ; and  either  Mr.  Perry  or  Mr.  Goldsmid  told  us  where  it 
was  to  be  bought.  I shall  he  very  anxious  until  I know  this  is 
done.” 

In  the  same  letter  he  says:  “ I shall,  when  I come  home,  settle 
four  thousand  pounds  in  trustees’  hands  for  Horatia  ; for  I will  not 
put  it  in  my  own  power  to  have  her  left  destitute  ; for  she  would 
want  friends  if  we  left  her  in  this  world.  She  shall  be  independent 
of  any  smile  or  frown  ! ” 

In  a letter  written  on  April  2nd,  1804,  Nelson  seems  to  throw 
some  light  on  the  mystery  of  “little  Emily,”  of  whose  pathetic  fate 
so  little  is  known  since  she  was  sent  to  boarding  school  by  Greville, 


109 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


and  afterwards  educated  away  from  her  mother  by  Sir  William 
Hamilton.  It  is  very  probable  that  Lady  Hamilton  confessed  to 
Nelson  that  she  had  been  a mother  before  she  gave  Horatia  to  him 
as  “a  pledge  of  love.”  If  that  is  so,  it  is  evident  that  Nelson  had 
forgiven  her,  and  in  the  letter  that  follows  it  can  hardly  be  doubted 
that  he  refers  tenderly  to  the  death  of  Lady  Hamilton’s  first  child. 

“ Captain  Capel  brought  me  your  letters  sent  by  the  Thistle  from 
Gibraltar.  I opened — opened — found  none  but  December,  and 
early  in  January,  I was  in  such  an  agitation  ! At  last  I found  one 
without  a date,  which,  thank  God,  told  my  poor  heart  that  you  was 
recovering,  but  that  Dear  little  Emma  was  no  more ! and  that 
Horatia  had  been  so  ill — it  altogether  upset  me. 

“ But  it  was  just  at  bedtime,  and  I had  time  to  reflect,  and  be 
thankful  to  God  for  sparing  you  and  our  dear  Horatia.  I am  sure 
the  loss  of  one — much  more  both,  would  have  drove  me  mad.  I 
was  so  agitated  as  it  was,  and  I was  glad  it  was  night,  and  that 
I could  be  with  myself. 

“ Kiss  our  dear  Horatia  for  me : and  tell  her  to  be  a dutiful  and 
good  child ; and  if  she  is  that  we  shall  always  love  her.” 

Reading  Lady  Hamilton’s  own  letters  at  this  time  to  Mrs. 
Nelson  and  to  the  father  of  her  child,  it  does  not  seem  that  she  was 
happy.  She  had  not  the  temperament  for  widowhood,  and  Nelson’s 
absence  from  her  was  a great  grief.  She  was  still  sufficiently  of 
the  old  Emma  to  require  the  support  of  a man  by  her  side,  and  as 
she  had  pined  in  the  absence  of  Greville,  in  her  early  days,  and 
later  when  Sir  William  went  a-hunting,  so  now  she  was  melancholy 
and  restless  when  Nelson  was  at  sea.  Knowing  how  ill  he  was, 
for  his  letters  were  full  of  allusions  to  ill-health  and  distressing 
complaints,  and  weary  of  the  long  and  dreary  time  during  which  he 
remained  inactive  in  the  Mediterranean,  she  would  have  been  some- 
thing less,  or  more,  than  a woman  of  warm  heart,  if  she  had  not 
occasionally  pleaded  with  him  to  come  home  to  her,  at  least  for  a 

110 


A Biographical  Essay. 


brief  holiday.  But  Nelson,  however  strong  his  passion  for  her,  had 
one  greater  and  dominant  passion,  the  love  of  country  and  honour. 

“ I know,  my  own  dear  Emma,”  he  wrote,  in  answer  to  one  such 
pleading,  “ if  she  will  let  her  reason  have  fair  play,  will  say  I am 
right ; but  she  is,  like  Horatia,  very  angry  if  she  cannot  have  her 
own  way.”  Here  Nelson  is  called  upon,  in  the  most  honourable 
manner,  to  defend  his  country  ! “ Absence,  to  us,  is  equally  painful ; 

but  if  I had  either  stayed  at  home,  or  neglected  my  duty  abroad, 
would  not  my  Emma  have  blushed  for  me  ? She  could  never  have 
heard  of  my  praises,  and  how  the  country  looks  up.  I am  writing, 
my  dear  Emma,  to  reason  the  point  with  you  ; and  I am  sure  you 
will  see  it  in  its  true  light.  But  I have  said  my  say  on  this  subject, 
and  will  finish.” 

Neither  Nelson  nor  Lady  Hamilton’s  biographers  had  a right  to 
make  too  much  of  the  natural  longing  for  a woman  to  have  her 
lover  at  home,  and  the  great  seaman  was  wise  enough  to  finish 
when  he  had  “ said  his  say.”  Lady  Hamilton  cannot  be  accused 
of  any  lack  of  patriotism,  and  there  were  others  at  this  time, 
without  the  same  personal  interests,  who  believed  that  Nelson 
might  very  well  be  relieved  for  a while  of  his  tedious,  and,  as  the 
public  then  thought,  his  inglorious  task  of  watch-dog  off  Toulon. 
Certainly,  whatever  Lady  Hamilton  said  in  her  letters  did  not  cause 
any  coldness  in  Nelson’s  heart  towards  her.  “ You  may  safely 
rely,”  he  wrote,  on  January  13th,  1804,  “that  I can  ever  repeat  with 
truth,  these  words — for  ever  I love  you,  and  only  you,  my  Emma; 
and,  you  may  be  assured,  as  long  as  you  are  the  same  to  me,  that 
you  are  never  absent  a moment  from  my  thoughts.”  Again  and 
again  he  repeated  with  passionate  warmth  his  expressions  of 
unalterable  devotion.  A great  wave  of  tenderness  flooded  his  soul 
during  the  last  year  of  his  life,  and  in  his  lonely  and  weary  time  of 
watching  and  waiting  on  the  seas  for  his  country’s  enemies,  he 
delighted  in  thinking  and  writing  of  all  that  he  could  do  with  his 


ill 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton . 


money  for  the  friends  who  had  been  kind  to  his  Emma,  for  all  his 
relatives,  and  hers,  for  the  servants  who  had  been  faithful  to  them, 
for  little  Horatia,  and  even  for  the  children  who  were  the  play- 
mates of  his  child.  There  was  but  little  news  of  his  own  to  tell  in 
return  for  Emma’s  long  budgets,  and  his  chief  theme  was  “ That  I 
love  you  most  dearly ; and  hate  the  French  most  damnably.”  He 
looked  forward  with  the  utmost  longing  as  well  as  with  sublime 
confidence  to  victory  and  peace,  so  that  he  might  return  home  at 
last  and  enjoy  the  domestic  happiness  of  which  he  dreamed. 
Meanwhile,  in  the  cabin  of  the  Victory,  the  fragile,  one-armed,  one- 
eyed  man  sat  solitary  in  meditation,  seeing  the  image  of  a beautiful 
woman’s  face  on  the  charts  spread  out  before  him,  while  the 
vision  of  a little  angel  child  hovered  above  him.  Deep  and  tender 
and  pious  thoughts  welled  up  in  the  great  seaman’s  heart,  and 
inspired  the  pen  with  which  he  scratched  out  his  messages  to 
Merton — that  beautiful  house  of  dreams  so  far  away,  and  yet  so 
near  to  him  in  imagination.  Yet  he  could  not  express  all  he 
thought,  partly  because  he  was  a plain  seaman  and  partly  because 
he  feared  his  letters  might  fall  into  wrong  hands,  as  the  frigates 
and  letters  carrying  his  despatches  were  sometimes  wrecked  or 
captured. 

“I  do  not  say  all  I wish;  and  which,  my  dearest,  beloved 
Emma— read  that  whoever  opens  this  letter,  and  for  what  I care, 
publish  it  to  the  world — your  fertile  imagination  can  readily 
fancy  I would  say : but  this  I can  say  with  great  truth,  that  I 

am  FOR  EVER  YOURS.” 

With  such  expressions  Lady  Hamilton  may  well  have  been 
satisfied.  There  could  have  been  no  fear  in  her  heart  that  this 
great  and  simple  hero  was  not  all  her  own,  or  that  he  would  not 
place  his  glory  at  her  feet,  holding  even  glory  cheap  in  comparison 
to  the  gift  of  her  beauty  and  love.  Nevertheless,  there  was 
inevitably  one  great  haunting  fear  within  her,  from  which  she 


112 


A Biographical  Essay. 


could  never  get  peace.  What  if  Nelson  died?  Confident  as  he 
was  of  victory,  he  was  never  one  to  put  away  the  thought  that 
his  life  might  be  the  price  of  victory,  In  that  great  sea  fight, 
which,  sooner  or  later,  must  decide  the  destiny  of  England,  when 
Villeneuve  should  at  last  decide  to  leave  the  shelter  of  Toulon 
and  hurl  his  fleet  against  the  British  men-of-war,  Nelson  would 
then  as  always  be  in  the  forefront  of  the  battle,  for  he  was  not 
one  to  plan  out  the  attack  only  and  leave  his  captains  to  bear 
the  brunt  of  shot  and  shell.  Nelson  was  to  be  where  the  battle 
raged  most  fiercely,  and  in  his  same  old  rash,  heroic  way,  he 
would  expose  his  body  to  the  enemy.  Oh,  horrid  thought  for 
poor  Emma,  whose  future  happiness  lay  only  in  the  hope  of 
having  Nelson  by  her  side,  and  to  whom  England’s  safety  and 
England’s  glory  were  even  of  less  account  to  her  than  Nelson 
in  the  living  flesh ! 

At  last,  on  the  20th  of  August,  1805,  Nelson  paid  a flying 
visit  to  England,  and  had  the  great  joy  of  holding  Emma  in  his 
arms.  For  a fortnight  he  revelled  in  the  joys  of  a domestic  life 
which  he  knew  would  be  interrupted  all  too  soon  by  orders  for 
instant  action.  But  he  did  not  allow  this  knowledge  to  disturb 
his  absolute  felicity,  and  he  kept  from  Lady  Hamilton  all  thought 
of  the  early  date  at  which  they  must  again  part.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  he  realised  all  the  joys  of  fatherhood,  and,  with 
Emma  and  little  Horatia,  the  days  passed  like  a wonderful  dream. 
Then,  very  early  on  the  morning  of  September  2nd,  Captain 
Blackwood,  of  the  Euryalus , came  post  haste  from  the  Admiralty, 
with  the  momentous  news  that  the  combined  French  fleet  had 
put  into  Cadiz.  All  the  fire  of  Nelson’s  ardent  spirit  burst  forth 
at  this  message,  which  called  him  to  duty.  “ Depend  on  it 
Blackwood,”  he  said,  again  and  again,  as  the  two  friends  paced 
the  garden  at  Merton,  “ I shall  give  Monsieur  Villeneuve  a 
drubbing.”  For  a time,  according  to  Southey’s  “ Life  of  Nelson,” 


113 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


the  great  Admiral  hesitated  to  break  the  news  to  Lady  Hamilton, 
and  when  he  did  so  her  emotion  unmanned  him  for  a while. 
But  Emma  was  not  a woman  to  hold  back  such  a lover  as 
Nelson  from  the  path  of  duty,  nor  was  Nelson  a man  to  hesitate 
for  one  moment  between  his  domestic  peace  and  his  country’s 
service.  One  can  hardly  credit  the  accuracy  of  the  theatrical 
language  attributed  in  Southey’s  “ Life  ” to  Lady  Hamilton,  nor 
do  the  words  supposed  to  have  been  spoken  by  Nelson  ring  true. 
“ Brave  Emma,  good  Emma  ! ” He  is  also  reported  to  have  said, 
when  she  urged  him  to  leave  her  at  once  for  battle  and  victory, 
“ If  there  were  more  Emmas,  there  would  be  more  Nelsons  ! ” 
But  one  can  imagine  that  tender  and  impassioned  words  must 
have  passed  between  those  two,  who,  in  their  own  eyes  at  least, 
were  husband  and  wife,  and  the  heart  melts  in  one  at  the  picture 
of  Nelson  kneeling  by  the  bedside  of  his  little  child  for  a fervent 
prayer,  and  giving  his  last  long  embrace  to  the  woman  who  was 
all  in  all  to  him.  Perhaps  in  his  heart  then,  as  certainly  a few 
days  later,  on  the  eve  of  battle,  he  had  a premonition  that  he 
was  going  to  his  death. 

His  last  letter  to  Lady  Hamilton  was  written  on  board  the 
Victory,  off  Cadiz,  on  October  19th,  1805,  and  none  may  read  it 
without  emotion. 

“ My  dearest  beloved  Emma  and  the  dear  Friend  of  my  bosom, 

The  signal  has  been  made  that  the  enemy’s  combined  fleet  are 
coming  out  of  port. 

We  have  very  little  wind,  so  that  I have  no  hopes  of  seeing  them 
before  to-morrow.  May  the  God  of  Battles  crown  my  endeavours 
with  success  ! At  all  events,  I shall  take  care  that  my  name  shall 
ever  be  most  dear  to  you  and  Horatia,  both  of  whom  I love  as  much 
as  my  own  life,  and  as  my  last  writing  before  the  battle  will  be  to 
you,  so  I hope  in  God  that  I shall  live  to  finish  my  letter  after  the 
battle. 


114 


A Biographical  Essay. 


May  Heaven  help  you,  prays  your  Nelson  and  Bronte. 

October  20th,  in  the  morning,  we  were  close  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Straits,  but  the  wind  had  not  come  far  enough  to  the  westward 
to  allow  the  combined  fleets  to  weather  the  shoals  of  Trafalgar,  but 
they  were  counted  as  far  as  forty  sail  of  ships  of  war  which  I suppose 
to  be  thirty-four  of  the  line  and  six  frigates.  A group  of  them  was 
seen  off  the  lighthouse  of  Cadiz  this  morning,  but  it  blows  so  very 
fresh,  I think  [stormy]  weather,  that  I rather  believe  they  will  go 
into  the  harbour  before  night. 

May  God  Almighty  give  us  success  over  these  fellows  and  enable 
us  to  get  a peace  ! ” 

There  is  no  need  to  tell  over  again  the  story  of  Trafalgar,  nor 
how  Nelson  died  an  heroic  death  in  the  hour  of  his  greatest 
triumph,  and  of  his  most  glorious  victory. 

The  bells  of  England  rang  with  joy  for  the  shattering  of  the 
enemy  who  had  so  long  threatened  our  shores  with  the  horrors  of 
invasion.  But  in  the  heart  of  every  man,  woman  and  child  there 
was  mourning  for  the  death  of  the  Admiral  whom  they  had  loved. 
When  the  joybells  were  ringing,  that  last  letter  of  Nelson’s  was 
brought  to  the  woman  who  had  been  in  his  dying  thoughts,  and  she, 
poor  soul,  in  a passion  of  grief,  knowing  now  that  all  she  had  hoped 
and  prayed  for  was  at  an  end,  turned  down  the  last  sheet,  and  in 
her  scrawling  hand  wrote  the  epitaph  of  her  own  heart : — 

“ O miserable,  wretched  Emma  ! 

O glorious  and  happy  Nelson  ! ” 

The  remainder  of  Lady  Hamilton’s  life  makes  a sad  and  tragic 
story,  a story  of  strife  and  bickering,  of  disappointed  ambitions  and 
vain  hopes,  of  wild  extravagance,  of  debt  and  difficulty,  of  foolish 
words  that  had  best  be  forgotten. 

By  his  will  Nelson  had  left  her  £500  a year  out  of  his  Bronte 
estate,  a sum  punctually  paid  by  the  Nelson  family  in  half-yearly 
instalments,  the  receipts  for  which  are  still  in  the  hands  of  the 


115 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


Hon.  Alexander  Nelson  Hood,  the  grandson  of  Lady  Charlotte 
Nelson.  In  addition  to  this  she  had  from  Nelson  an  immediate 
legacy  of  £2,000,  the  possession  of  Merton  Place,  the  interest  on 
the  £4,000  settled  on  Horatia,  and  the  annuity  of  £800  from  Sir 
William  Hamilton.  She  was  therefore  fully  and  handsomely 
provided  for.  But  Lord  Nelson,  in  bequeathing  Emma  and 
Horatia  to  the  care  of  his  King  and  country,  and  in  claiming 
a pension  for  her  by  recounting  in  the  codicil  to  his  will  the  services 
he  believed  her  to  have  done  at  a memorable  epoch  of  his  career, 
did  much  to  unsettle  Lady  Hamilton’s  mind,  and  to  stir  ambitions 
in  her  which  were  never  realised.  The  publication  of  this  codicil 
was  a cause  celebre  in  English  Society,  and  there  were  many  friends 
of  Lady  Hamilton  who  injudiciously  championed  her  cause,  and 
urged  her  on  to  make  claims  upon  the  Government  which  it  did  not 
consider  right  or  just.  On  the  other  hand  there  were  many  people 
who  violently  denounced  Lady  Hamilton  as  an  intriguing  adven- 
turess who  deserved  nothing  but  shame  and  penury.  The  heated 
and  deplorable  controversies  which  raged  over  this  subject  natur- 
ally inflamed  a woman  like  Lady  Hamilton  with  a sense  that  she 
was  being  treated  with  cruel  injustice.  We  may  indeed  allow  that 
she  was  treated  with  a meanness  of  which  England  should  not 
have  been  guilty — for  Nelson’s  sake  alone.  But  Lady  Hamilton 
acted  a foolish  and  injudicious  part.  She  gained  nothing  but 
ridicule  and  scorn  by  her  palpable  exaggerations  of  what  she  had 
done  for  Nelson  and  England,  and  of  all  the  losses  she  had  suffered 
during  the  Neapolitan  Revolution.  She  deeply  annoyed  the  Nelson 
family,  and  alienated  these,  her  best  friends,  by  claiming  more  from 
them  than  she  had  any  right  to  expect,  not  having  any  legal  title  of 
relationship,  in  spite  of  the  undoubted  fact  that  Nelson  would  have 
made  her  his  wife  had  he  lived  “ until  the  impediments  were 
removed.”  Surrounded  by  false  friends  and  flatterers,  and 
prompted  perhaps  by  her  melancholy  and  her  disappointed 


116 


LADY  HAMILTON.  AFTER  LAWRENCE. 

Ij  y kind  permission  of  the  owner,  The  Rt.  Hon.  Evelyn  Ashley. 


A Biographical  Essay. 


ambitions,  she  lived  at  Merton,  and  at  her  town  house  in  Clarges 
Street,  with  such  extravagance  and  foolish  ostentation  that, 
as  early  as  1808,  she  was  in  great  monetary  difficulties,  and 
endeavouring  to  sell  Merton  Place.  Her  affairs  were  gone  into  by 
a committee  of  friends  who  subscribed  over  £3,000  for  her 
immediate  relief,  on  condition  that  she  made  over  her  country 
house  to  them,  in  trust,  to  sell  at  their  discretion  for  the  satis- 
faction of  her  creditors.  After  leaving  Merton  she  removed  to 
Richmond,  and  afterwards  to  Bond  Street,  but,  in  spite  of  the 
warnings  of  her  well-wishers,  she  continued  to  get  into  debt  to 
such  an  extent  that  in  the  summer  of  1813  she  was  actually 
committed  to  the  King’s  Bench  Prison.  In  this  deplorable  situa- 
tion— almost  more  shameful,  perhaps,  to  those  who  should  have  had 
Nelson’s  honour  at  heart  than  to  herself — she  was  compelled  to 
remain  for  nearly  a year.  She  was  not  in  the  prison  strictly, 
however,  but  permitted  to  reside  at  12,  Temple  Place,  “ within  the 
rules  of  the  Bench.”  Poor  little  Horatia  was  with  her,  and  a few 
staunch  friends  of  Nelson  and  herself  visited  them  at  times.  Only 
a few  letters  have  been  published  which  Lady  Hamilton  wrote 
during  this  melancholy  time.  In  one  of  them,  dated  on  the  eve  of 
August  1st,  1813,  an  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  the  Nile,  she 
expresses  her  “pain  and  grief”  in  thinking  of  “the  dear  lamented 
Chief.  He  could  never  have  thought  that  his  Child  and  myself 
should  pass  the  anniversary  of  that  victorious  day  where  we  shall 
pass  it.”  To  a kind  and  wealthy  friend,  named  Alderman  J.  J. 
Smith,  Lady  Hamilton  owed  her  release  from  an  imprisonment  that 
had  not  been  too  severe,  but  was  certainly  both  irksome  and 
ignominious.  She  was  not,  however,  safe  in  England  if  she  wished 
to  retain  her  newly-found  liberty,  for  other  writs  were  out  against 
her  from  relentless  creditors.  With  the  assistance  of  the  same 
good  friend  she  was  enabled  to  make  her  escape  with  Horatia  on 
board  a small  steamer  bound  for  Calais,  where  they  arrived  safely. 


117 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


She  took  up  her  residence  in  that  town,  and  for  a time  recovered 
some  of  her  old  spirits,  though  not  the  health  she  had  formerly 
enjoyed.  Although  most  of  her  money  had  been  swallowed  up  by 
her  host  of  greedy  creditors  she  still  had  the  use  of  the  interest  on 
the  £4,000  left  for  Horatia’s  up-bringing,  and  which  she  conscien- 
tiously used  for  the  young  girl’s  education.  It  seems  also  that  the 
Nelson  family  still  paid  her  the  annuity  of  £500,  so  that  she  was 
not  so  terribly  indigent  as  some  of  her  biographers  have  en- 
deavoured to  make  out.  Horatia  went  to  a genteel  day  school  kept 
by  an  English  lady,  and,  according  to  her  mother,  made  rapid 
progress  in  French  and  Italian,  the  harp  and  piano,  and  all  “elegant 
accomplishments.”  Lady  Hamilton  herself  enjoyed  a little  good 
society  among  the  English  residents,  and  seems  to  have  been  fairly 
happy  for  a time.  But  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1813  she  fell 
seriously  ill,  and,  while  waiting  for  another  instalment  of  the  money 
allowed  her,  was  compelled  to  part  with  some  of  her  trinkets,  and 
to  take  for  her  own  use  some  of  the  money  which  should  have  been 
used  only  for  Horatia.  So  the  sad  tale  comes  to  an  end  with  her 
death  at  the  age  of  fifty-one,  on,  or  about,  the  15th  of  January, 
1815,  and  with  her  burial,  at  the  expense  of  a charitable  English 
lady,  in  the  cemetery  of  Calais,  in  a plain  deal  coffin,  and  with  but 
a few  witnesses  to  the  simple  and  tragic  ceremony. 

Some  time  before  her  death  she  drew  up  a will,  bequeathing 
all  her  personal  belongings  and  her  souvenirs  of  Nelson  to 
Horatia.  She  appointed  Mr.  George  Macham  and  the  Hon. 
George  Ross  as  her  executors,  and  as  the  guardians  of  “ Horatia 
Nelson  ” (she  had  now  dropped  the  Thompson  fiction),  and,  so 
the  will  goes  on  : “ It  is  my  wish  that  H.R.  Highness,  the  Prince 

Regent,  or  if  before  my  death  he  shall  become  King,  that  he  will 
provide  for  the  said  Horatia  in  such  a manner  that  she  may  live 
as  becomes  the  daughter  of  such  a man  as  her  victorious  father 
was;  and  as  His  Royal  Highness  often  promised  me  that  he 

J18 


PamtedL J’.a3T.Mas!EjTiieip,tte!P.  E d WW?Say, 


ILABlf  14M  I ILT©Mc 


Landon.Pubhr.hed  M&y  20 ^ 1806  by  the  Engraver  92  Norton  Street. Pfaylebone 


A Biographical  Essay. 


would  have  me  remunerated,  when  he  had  it  in  his  power,  for 
the  services  that  I have  rendered  my  King  and  Country,  and  as 
I have  never  been  remunerated,  nor  even  received  one  sixpence 
from  Government,  let  me  on  my  knees  beg  of  His  Royal  Highness 
to  provide  for  the  said  Horatia  Nelson,  the  only  child  of  the 
Great  and  Glorious  Nelson.  And  I beg,  after  my  death,  that  a 
copy  of  this,  my  last  will  and  testament,  may  be  sent  to  His 
Royal  Highness,  the  Prince  Regent,  or  if  he  is  King,  it  may  be 
sent  to  His  Majesty,  for  his  high  honour  and  probity,  and  the 
friendship  which  he  had  for  Nelson,  will  induce  him  to  protect 
his  child  for  me.  H.R.H.  always  showed  me  the  greatest  kind- 
ness, and  for  the  sake  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  whom  His 
Royal  Highness  so  highly  honoured,  that  he  will  provide  for  the 
orphan  Horatia.  When  my  head  is  laid  low  she  will  want  pro- 
tection, therefore,  to  God  Almighty,  to  His  Royal  Highness, 
and  to  my  Executors,  I most  earnestly  recommend  her  on  my 
knees,  blessing  her,  and  praying  for  her,  that  she  may  be  happy, 
virtuous,  good,  and  amiable,  and  that  she  may  remember  all  the 
kind  instructions  and  good  advice  I have  given  her,  and  may  she 
be  what  her  great  and  immortal  father  washed  her  to  be,  brought 
up  with  virtue,  honour,  religion,  and  rectitude.  Amen,  Amen,  Amen.” 
From  this  remarkable  document  it  may  be  noticed  that 
although  Lady  Hamilton  repeatedly  mentioned  Horatia  as  the 
only  child  of  Nelson,  she  never  once  acknowledged  her  as  her 
own  daughter.  At  the  time  the  will  was  written  (September 
4th,  1811),  she  still  had  hopes  of  receiving  a pension  from  the 
Government,  and  she  was  therefore  careful  not  to  endanger  her 
claims  upon  the  Government’s  gratitude  to  Sir  William  Hamilton 
and  Nelson  by  putting  forward  a fact  which,  for  the  sake  of 
them  both,  was  best  concealed.  It  is  said  that  she  even  went 
further,  and  actually  denied  in  writing  that  she  was  the  mother 
of  Horatia,  maintaining  that  the  child’s  real  mother  was  “ too 


119 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


great  to  be  mentioned,  but  her  father,  mother,  and  Horatia,  had 
a true  and  virtuous  friend  in  Emma  Hamilton.”  No  serious 
consideration  need  be  given  to  a statement  so  utterly  disproved 
by  all  the  known  facts,  and  by  the  letters  of  Lord  Nelson 
himself.  It  must  be  admitted  that  at  this  time  Lady  Hamilton’s 
mental  balance  was  overthrown,  and  that  in  her  disappointed 
ambition  and  distress  of  fortune  she  made  many  wild  statements 
that  had  no  foundation  of  truth. 

The  mind  turns  from  the  sadness  of  Lady  Hamilton’s  last 
years  to  those  earlier  days,  when,  as  the  fair,  vivacious,  and 
lovable  Emma,  she  had  lived  a simple  life  with  Greville  at 
Paddington  Green,  and  to  the  time  when,  at  Naples  and  Palermo, 
she  reached  the  zenith  of  her  fortune,  reigning  as  the  acknowledged 
Queen  of  Beauty,  the  friend  and  counsellor  of  Maria  Caroline, 
the  faithful  wife  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  and  the  still  virtuous 
admirer  of  Horatio  Nelson.  We  do  well  to  forget  the  decay  of 
her  beauty,  and  the  somewhat  squalid  circumstances  of  her  end, 
remembering  only  the  perfect  loveliness  of  those  features  which 
Romney  painted,  and  the  splendour  of  her  summer-time  of 
womanhood.  And  so  also  to  all  charitable  minds  it  is  better  to 
deal  mercifully  with  her  many  frailties  and  faults,  bearing  in  mind 
the  natural  goodness  of  her  heart,  in  spite  of  her  unhappy 
experiences  of  the  world’s  wickedness,  the  simplicity  which  she 
preserved  so  long  in  the  midst  of  a corrupt  Court,  and,  above  all, 
the  remarkable  strength  of  character,  the  wonderful  intelligence 
and  tact  which  enabled  her  to  rise  from  the  humblest  rank  to  a 
high  position,  and  to  maintain  it  with  perfect  dignity.  The  career 
of  Lady  Hamilton,  apart  altogether  from  her  connection  with 
Nelson,  is  full  of  romance,  and  a striking  testimony  to  her  charm 
and  wit ; but  as  long  as  the  English  nation  reverence  the  memory 
of  their  greatest  seaman,  so  also  should  they  think  not  unkindly 
of  the  woman  whom  he  loved  more  than  his  own  life. 


120 


List  of  Engravings. 


Er  OF  PRINCIPAL  ENGRAVINGS,  AFTER 
PORTRAITS  OF  LADY  HAMILTON, 

BY  ROMNEY,  REYNOLDS,  AND  OTHER  ARTISTS. 


ENGRAVINGS  AFTER  GEORGE  ROMNEY. 

As  “ Alope.” 

Stipple,  by  Richard  Earlom.  W.L.  lOf  x I2£. 

I.  Before  any  inscription. 

II.  Title,  “ Alope  ” in  open  letters.  Published  1st  August,  1787. 

III.  Letters  of  title  filled  in. 

As  “ The  Ambassadress.” 

Mezzotint  by  T.  G.  Appleton.  23  x 18  (1905). 

As  “ Ariadne.” 

Line  by  C.  Brome  and  T Bragg,  nearly  W.L.  12f  x lOf. 

I.  “ Painted  by  G.  Romney.  Engraved  by  C.  Brome,”  scratched. 

II.  Inscription  engraved,  entitled  “ Kate,”  in  open  letters.  Published 

4th  May,  1827. 

Mezzotint  by  H.  T.  Greenhead.  15f  X 19f  (1895.) 

As  “Bacchante.” 

Stipple  by  Charles  Knight.  T.Q.L.  12|  x lOf. 

I.  Inscription  engraved,  title  in  open  letters.  Published  C.  Knight. 

II.  Letters  of  title  filled  in  and  date  of  publication,  17th  June,  1787  added. 

III.  Published  by  C.  Knight  and  Randon,  Stainbach  and  Sayer. 

Mezzotint  by  T.  G.  Appleton.  17  x 21£  (1902). 

Mezzotint  by  N.  Hirst.  12  x 15J  (1902). 

As  “Bacchante.”  A study. 

Line  by  C.  Holl,  1\  X 9J,  for  the  “ Vernon  Gallery.” 

Mezzotint  by  R.  Kenealy.  8 x 10.  Jan.  30th,  1890. 

Mezzotint  by  E.  Gulland.  13^  X 11J  (1902). 


121 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


As  “Cassandra.” 

Line  by  Francis  Legat.  W.L.  19^  x 14J. 

I.  Inscription  scratched. 

II.  Inscription  engraved.  Published  1st  January,  1795. 

As  “ Cassandra.”  Bust  only. 

Mezzotint  by  H.  T.  Greenhead,  under  the  title  of  “ Lady  Hamilton  when 
Young.”  16-f  x 17J  (1895). 

As  “ Cassandra.”  Head  only. 

Stipple  by  Caroline  Watson.  8§  in.  circle. 

I.  Before  the  inscription. 

II.  With  the  title  “ Cassandra.”  Published  14th  April,  1809. 

As  “ Cassandra.”  Head  nearly  full  face. 

Mezzotint  by  T.  Protheroe.  17  X 21f  (1903). 

As  “ Circe.” 

Mezzotint  by  H.  S.  Bridgwater.  14J  x 23J  (1894). 

Mezzotint  by  E.  L.  Haynes.  14£  x 19J  (1901). 

As  “ Comedy.” 

Stipple  by  Benjamin  Smith.  W.L  10^  x 12f. 

I.  Title  in  running  and  open  letters.  Published  4th  June,  1803. 

II.  Title  in  running  and  open  letters.  Published  1st  December,  1803. 

As  “ Comedy.” 

Stipple  by  Caroline  Watson.  W.L.  7 X 5f.  Published  14th  April,  1809. 

I.  Before  all  letters. 

II.  With  medallion  bust  of  Romney  added  at  foot. 

III.  Title  in  running  and  open  letters. 

As  “ Contemplation.” 

Mezzotint  by  E.  Wehrschmidt.  15J  x 19J  oval  (1897). 


122 


List  of  Engravings. 


As  “ Emma.” 

Stipple  by  J.  Jones.  H.L.  10£  x 9f. 

I.  The  title  “Emma”  scratched,  the  rest  of  the  inscription  engraved. 

Published  29th  December,  1785. 

II.  With  the  title  engraved. 

III.  Modern. 

Mezzotint  by  George  Zobel.  9 x 11|.  Dec.  14th,  1876. 

Mezzotint  by  E.  Stamp.  15  x 19  (1902). 


As  “ Emma,”  with  Handkerchief  round  Head. 

Stipple  by  W.  Read.  H.L.  5 x 3f.  Published  1st  August,  1815. 
I.  Title  “ Lady  Hamilton.” 

II.  Title  and  Name  of  Engraver. 

As  “ Euphrosyne.” 

Mezzotint  by  G.  S.  Shury.  10  x 12,  oval  (1898). 

As  “Joan  of  Arc.”  Head  only. 

Mezzotint  by  N.  Hurst.  19f  x 17f  (1901). 


With  Minature  in  Belt, 

Stipple  by  Henry  Meyer.  H.L.  Vignette. 

With  the  Name.  Published  10th  April,  1815, 


As  “ Miranda.” 

Stipple  by  Caroline  Watson.  Head  7f  x 7. 

I.  Before  any  Inscription. 

II.  With  the  title  “Miranda.”  Published  14th  April,  1809. 

Mezzotint  by  C.  Tomkins.  7f  x 9 (1897) 

Drawn  on  Stone  by  J.  W.  Slater.  H.  L.  5£  x 41- 

Title  “ Lady  Hamilton  as  Miranda,”  in  open  letters.  Published  17th  June. 

Engraved  by  Journard,  7§  x 6§,  for  the  “ Magazine  of  Art.” 


123 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


“ In  Morning  Dress.” 

Engraved  by  C.  Dietrich  for  the  “ Magazine  of  Art.”  (1885). 

Photogravure  by  Messrs.  Braun  et  Cie,  Paris.  (1901). 

Mezzotint  by  R.  W.  Hester.  15£  x 19(1903). 

As  “ Nature.” 

Mezzotint  by  J.  R.  Smith.  H.L.  13  x 10~|. 

I.  Inscription  in  skeleton  letters.  The  title  “ Nature,”  in  open  letters. 

Published  29th  May,  1784. 

II.  Inscription  engraved.  Title  in  open  letters. 

*111.  Print  reduced  by  removal  of  the  border  to  10  x 8.  Letters  of  title 
filled  in. 

*Mrs.  Prankau  in  her  work  on  John  Raphael  Smith  gives  this  as  the 
fourth  state.  The  third  state  she  describes  as  “ Inscription 
engraved.  Title  partly  filled  in.” 

Mezzotint  by  Henry  Meyer.  H.L.  Ilf  X 9|. 

I.  Before  any  inscription. 

II.  Inscription  without  name  of  personage,  engraved. 

III.  “ Lady  Hamilton  ” added. 

Mezzotint  by  Mrs.  M.  Cormack.  16|  x 19f  (1891). 

Reading  the  Gazette. 

Stipple  by  F.  Holl.  H.L.  10  x 13.  Feb.  12th,  1878. 

As  “ St.  Cecilia.” 

Stipple  by  G.  Keating.  W.L.  12^  x 9f. 

Inscription  (without  title)  engraved.  Published  25th  March,  1789. 

The  British  Museum  copy  has  the  title  in  open  letters. 

This  plate  was  also  engraved  by  R.  Earlom. 

“ The  Sempstress.”  (Ward  & Roberts  say  that  this  is  Miss  Vernon). 

Stipple  by  Thos.  Cheesman.  W.L.  12£  x 9§. 

I.  Before  any  description. 

II.  Title  “The  Sempstress,”  in  open  letters,  artist’s  name  in  stippled 
letters,  publication  line  in  skeleton  letters.  Published  25th 
April,  1787. 

III.  Inscription  engraved. 


124 


List  of  Engravings. 


As  “ Sensibility.” 

Stipple  by  Richard  Earlom.  Nearly  W.L.  12£  x 9f. 

1.  Title  “ Sensibility”  in  open  letters.  Published  25th  March,  1789. 

II.  Letters  of  the  title  filled  in.” 

The  British  Museum  has  a preliminary  etching  before  any  letter. 
Stipple  by  Caroline  Watson.  Head  6^  in  circle. 

I.  Before  any  inscription. 

II.  With  the  title  “ Sensibility.”  Published  14th  April,  1809. 

Mezzotint  by  J.  W.  Chapman.  12  x 14J.  Sept.  24th,  1891. 

“ The  Spinstress.” 

Stipple  by  Thomas  Cheesman.  W.L.  14  X 10J. 

I.  Before  any  Inscription. 

II.  With  title,  artist’s  name  in  stippled  letters,  rest  of  inscription 

engraved.  Published  1st  August,  1789. 

III.  With  the  title,  “The  Sempstress”  added. 

Stipple  and.  Etching  by  C.  H.  Jeens.  10J  X 14.  Feb.  14th,  1876. 

Mezzotint  by  H.  T.  Greenhead.  15  X 21  (1898). 

Boydell’s  “ Catalogue  ” 1803,  describes  one  by  Tomkins  10^  x 14| 
(probably  an  error). 

As  “ Supplication.” 

Mezzotint  by  T.  G.  Appleton.  15  X 18  (1903) 

Title  “ Lady  Hamilton  as  Supplication.” 

This  is  a different  version  of  “ Miranda.” 


As  “Titania.”  (Ward  & Roberts  say  that  this  is  Mrs.  Oliver,  nee  Shakespeare). 


Stipple  by  Edward  Scriven.  W.L.  71  x 9A. 

I.  Inscription  engraved  “proof”  scratched.  Published  1st  December, 
1810. 

II.  Without  the  word  “ proof.” 

The  British  Museum  copy  has  the  artist’s  name  only,  scratched. 


As  “ A Wood  Nymph.”  (The  same  authorities  say  that  this  is  not  Lady  Hamilton). 

Mezzotint  by  Valentine  Green.  W.L.  23f  x 16f. 

1.  Inscription  scratched.  Published  14th  February,  1778. 

II.  Inscription  engraved.  Published  16th  October,  1778. 


125 


Emma,  Lady  Hamilton. 


PORTRAITS  BY  ROMNEY,  WITHOUT  TITLES . 

Stipple  by  J.  Conde.  H.  L.  4 x 3J. 

With  the  name.  Published  for  the  “ European  Magazine,”  1803. 

Stipple  and  Line  by  J.  Skelton.  Seated  half  figure.  9 x 5f  (1849). 

Mezzotint  by  H.  S.  Bridgwater.  Head  and  shoulders,  full  face.  8 x 9J  (1897) 
Mezzotint  by  J.  W.  Chapman.  Seated  half  figure.  17  x 21  (1894) 

ENGRAVINGS  AFTER  OTHER  ARTISTS. 

As  “ Bacchante.”  By  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 

Mezzotint  by.  J.  R.  Smith.  H.L.  8J  x 10J.  Published  September,  1784. 

I.  Inscription  in  open  letters. 

II.  With  name  of  artist  and  engraver’s  name  and  address. 

III.  Retouched.  Engraver’s  address,  “83  Oxford  Street  ” erased  ; instead, 
“ 31  King  Street,  Covent  Garden.” 

Mezzotint  by  J.  Rogers.  “ Specimens  of  Art,”  Plate  II. 

“ Emma,  Lady  Hamilton.”  By  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence. 

Engraved  by  C.  Knight  for  Lawrence’s  private  use.  June  20th,  1792. 

As  “The  Comic  Muse.”  By  Angelica  Kauffman. 

Line  by  Raphael  Morghen.  10^  x 13^.  With  Inscription. 

As  “ A Sybil.”  By  Madame  Vigee  le  Brun. 

Litho  by  Grevedon.  8-J  x 12-|. 

Title  “ Lady  Hamilton  en  Sibylle.” 

“ Lady  Hamilton.”  By  J.  J.  Masquerier. 

Mezzotint  by  William  Say.  14  x 11.  Published  20th  May,  1S06. 

“ Lady  Hamilton.”  By  De  Non. 

Etching  by  Jean  Suntach.  5§  x 7J.  Title  “ Madame  Hart.” 

“ Lady  Hamilton.”  By  W.  Bennet. 

Mezzotint  by  R.  Mackenzie.  3§  x 2£,  oval.  (1803). 

“ Lady  Hamilton.  By  H.  Sherburn. 

Engraved  by  H.  Rogers  (1882). 

“ Lady  Hamilton.”  Head  and  Bust.  By  Guy  Head. 

Litho  by  B.  Reading.  5x3. 


Index  of  Plates. 


JNDEX  OP  PLATES. 

Lady  Hamilton.  Miniature  by  Shelley.  By  kind  permission  of  the  owner, 

F.  Sabin,  Esq.  ........  Frontispiece. 

“A  Bacchante.”  Painted  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  Engraved  by  J.  R.  Smith, 

Mezzotint  Engraver  to  H.R.H.  the  Prince  of  Wales  - • - Facing  4 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “ Nature.”  By  George  Romney.  From  an  Engraving  by 

J.  R.  Smith  - - - - - - - - - - „ 8 

Lady  Hamilton  (Emma  Hart).  By  George  Romney.  From  the  picture  in  the 

National  Gallery  - - - • - - - - - „ 12 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “Ariadne.”  By  George  Romney.  In  the  possession  of  Sir 

Audrey  Neeld,  Bart.  - - - - - - - - 16 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “ Bacchante.”  By  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  From  the  original 
painting  in  the  Cranbury  Park  Collection.  By  kind  permission  of  the  owner, 
Tankerville  Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P.  - - - - - - „ 20 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “ Bacchante.”  By  Madame  Vigee  Le  Brun.  From  the  original 
painting  in  the  Cranbury  Park  Collection.  By  kind  permission  of  the  owner, 
Tankerville  Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P.  - - - - - - „ 24 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “ Bacchante.”  By  George  Romney.  From  the  original  painting 
in  the  Cranbury  Park  Collection.  By  kind  permission  of  Tankerville 
Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P.  - - - - - - - - „ 28 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “ Cassandra.”  By  George  Romney.  From  the  original  painting 
in  the  Cranbury  Park  Collection.  By  kind  permission  of  Tankerville 
Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P.  - - - - - - - - „ 32 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “ Cassandra.”  By  George  Romney.  In  the  possession  of  General 

Sir  Arthur  Ellis  - - - - - - - - - „ 36 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “The  Ambassadress.”  Engraved  by  T.  G.  Appleton,  after 
George  Romney.  From  the  picture  in  the  possession  of  Sir  Robert  Harvey, 

Baronet.  By  permission  of  Messrs.  Henry  Graves  & Sons  - - - 40 

Lady  Hamilton  as  “ Circe.”  By  George  Romney.  From  the  original  painting.  By 

kind  permission  of  the  owner,  the  Hon.  H.  C.  Gibbs,  M.A.  - - - „ 44 

Lady  Hamilton.  Unfinished  Sketch.  By  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  (In  the  British 

Museum)  - * - - - - - - - - „ 48 

Lady  Hamilton  in  Morning  Dress.  By  George  Romney.  From  the  original 

painting.  By  permission,  from  Messrs.  Agnew’s  New  Work  on  Romney  - „ 52 

Lady  Hamilton  Reading  the  Gazette.  By  George  Romney.  From  the  original 

painting.  By  permission,  from  Messrs.  Agnew’s  New  Work  on  Romney  - „ 60 

Lady  Hamilton  “ The  Spinstress.”  By  George  Romney  - - - - „ 68 

Lady  Hamilton  “Sensibility.”  By  George  Romney.  By  kind  permission  of  the 

owner,  Lord  Burton  - - - - - - - - „ 76 

Lady  Hamilton  (Emma  Hart).  By  George  Romney.  In  the  possession  of  Alfred 

Rothschild,  Esq.,  - - - - - - - - - „ 84 

Lady  Hamilton.  By  George  Romney.  From  the  original  painting.  By  kind 

permission  of  the  owner,  the  Earl  of  Wemyss  - - - - - „ 92 

Lady  Hamilton  as  a Nun  Praying.  By  George  Romney.  By  kind  permission  of 

the  owner,  Tankerville  Chamberlayne,  Esq.,  M.P.  - • - - „ 100 

Lady  Hamilton.  By  George  Romney  108 

Lady  Hamilton.  After  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  By  kind  permission  of  the  owner, 

The  Rt.  Hon.  Evelyn  Ashley  - - - - - - - „ 116 

Lady  Hamilton.  Painted  by  J.  J.  Masquerier  - - - - „ 1 18 


127 


GEO.  PULMAN  & SONS.  LTD., 
CRANFORD  PRESS, 
WEALDSTONE, 
MIDD'X. 


